The Wingham Advance-Times, 1939-09-07, Page 6w
INTO THE
SUNSET
BY JACKSON GREGORY
WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES Thursday, September 7, 1939*
SYNOPSIS
Barry Haveril goes hunting for a
cousin of his, Jesse Conroy, known as
the Laredo Kid, who murdered his
brother, Robert. Barry is befriended
by Judge Blue and his daughter, Lucy.
The Judge turns out to be a friend of
Laredo’s and a bad actor. Barry es
capes, however, and meets an old man
named Timberline, who also is gun-
ning for the Laredo Kid. After several
years of searching, Barry returns to
Judge Blue's house, where he meets
a man called Tom Haveril whom he
^accuses of being his cousin, Jesse, in
disguise. Barry becomes convinced of
this later and they have a gun battle,
both getting hurt. Recovered, Barry
discovers Tom Haveril has married
Lucy whom he loves. Barry, the
Slight they are married, kidnaps Lucy,
and tells her he loves her. Judge Blue
5s not her father, he tells her, and
Tom Haveril is the Laredo Kid. On
the way to Barry’s hideout, Laredo’s
men capture Barry. Lucy plays up to
Laredo’s foreman, Jake Goodby.
if? £ 5?S
Lucy said quickly, “What do you
suppose it is that they have hidden
cut here, Sarboe and Barry Haveril,
that Tom is so anxious to get?”
“I didn’t know that part of it,” said
Jake. “Well, shucks, it don’t make no
difference to us, does it, Lucy?”
■“I’d like to know. Wouldn't you
like to know, Jake? Before Tom gets
here?”
Jake laughed. “You little devil you,
Lucy!”
“I think I can find out something,
Jake! I already have an inkling. But
we’ll have to hurry. Let’s see. You
call your cowboy back over here
where he can’t hear. Let me have five
minutes—I’ll bet you. Jake Goodby,
that I can find out!”
“But you look a-here,” he began.
“Oh, they can’t hurt me!” cried
Lucy, jumping up. She laughed and
clapped her hands down on the butt
of Barry’s gun. “They’re tied up, and
look at me wearing this’’’
She called the weapon to his atten
tion in haste, rather than have him be-
jpn to think about it later.
Jake.
Miss
“Well,” said Jake slowly, “it won’t
do any harm for you to find out what
you can. I’ll bet you they don’t open
their traps. But go ’head.”
“Hey there, Bunce!” called
“Come here.”
Bunce grunted and got up.
“Squat, Bunce. We’ll chin.
Lucy's steppin’ over to ride herd on
them two hombres a minute or two,"
Barry watched her wonderingly.
She came on until she stood over
him, looking down into his’ upturned
face. At first she must say something
for Jake Goodby to hear. His suspic
ions might wake at any moment.
She found it easiest of all to laugh.
“So ’t’s funny, is it,” said Barry
savagely.
“You were so stupid,” cried out the
girl, still laughing. Then she grew
suddenly still, then said in a queer
stiff sort of voice, “Tom Haveril will
able. There was no time. Haveril
came up standing like a snake coming
out of a coil. The two strong hands
she thought so securely tied behind
him flashed out and caught her up,
swinging her clear of the ground. At
a single bound he was around behind
the big rock, and she was huddled at
his feet, and his gun was again in his
hand.
At the same instant she saw Sar-
boe surge sideways and launch him
self along the ground on hands and
knees, so that now he and Barry Hav
eril and herself were all behind the
bounder. And Barry, armed again,
was roaring like an angry bull.
“Jake Goodby! You Bunce! Up
with ’em or I’ll kill the two of you!”
There were no less astounded than
Lucy, the thing had happened so all
without warning. The two men got
slowly to their feet and .put their arms
He gathered her up into his arms.
"Why don't you kill him now?" she
bitterly, “It would be so easy!
half dead anyhow, If you're so
of killing, what are you waiting
You’ll never have
said
He’s
fond
for?
chance-—’
He glared at her, then
something under his breath
out,
When he came back1 Sarboe came
with him, and both men were carry
ing armfuls of pine tips for her com
fort.
Sarboe’s eyes flashed from the
gaunt, palsied form on the bunk to
Barry, demanding explanations.
Barry's answer was a mere; “I don't
know.. I found him like that, He’s
had a bullet through him,”
(Continued Next Week)
a better
muttered
and went
PHIL OSIFER OF
LAZY MEADOWS
By Harry J, Boyle
“CHICKENS”
in
of
’ i > j‘ AXw A
•J-’ ^4 * eW'VAVy ■
be here soon, Mr. Barry Haveril—or
is Laredo the name? And when', he
comes—•”
“When he comes?” said Barry, and
pulled his legs up under him, as if to
ease cramped muscles.
Lucy stepped a little closer. She
was just shaping her lips to whisper
hurriedly: “Barry, I’m trying to help
you!” But she didn’t whisper a syll-
Jake
time
Bar
BRITAIN PREPARED
The British lion has been fully
roused. No detail has been overlook
ed in the ealm, efficient gearing o£ the
nation for war, Reservists and regu-
jars have been holding extensive man-
oetivres. Here is a portable wireless
operator reporting to headquarters
while concealed in a hedge doting war
games in Hampshire, Note the cam*
onflage,
straight up.
“Step this way, you two,” he com
manded sharply. “And better not try
any funny business.”
Bunce started forward, then stopped
to glance sideways at Goodby.
had not moved.
Bunce started again;’ this
Goodby came stumbling along,
ry, watching him narrowly, saw hjm
stumble slightly. Almost too swiftly
for the eye to follow his movement
the next minute he sprang nimbly to
one side, snapped out. his gun, and
started shooting over Bunce’s shoul
der.
Bunce yelled out in rage and terror,
then jerked out his gun and started
blazing away at all that he could see
of the man behind the boulder. But
poor Bunce never had a chance; Bar
ry’s first answering shot broke a leg
for him and he fell lurchingly. Jake
fired again, but his aim was disturb
ed and his shot went wild. He was
letting the third, shot off when he, like
Bunce, went down, shot through the
body.
Goodby stirred slightly, then lay
still again. Barry came forward, gath
ered up both men’s weapons, then ask
ed curtly of Bunce, “Where are you
hurt?”
“I got it in the leg,” groaned the
cowboy.
Barry called to Sarboe: “Come
along here, Sarboe. And bring Mrs.
Tom Haveril with you.”
So Sarboe came and Lucy with him,
one of her waists clenched tight in his
i hand, her face white, her eyes looking
enormous and brilliant in the firelight.
:1 “Is he dead?” she whispered, look
ing down on Jake Goodby.
“If he is, he asked for it,” snapped
Barry. “I’m going for the horses,” he
said and hurried off, merely adding
Over his shoulder, “Watch both of ’em
Sarboe, and don’t turn that girl loose.”
Barry returned hurriedly with the
horses, his and Sarboe’s and the one
that Lucy had ridden
Judge’s, Also he brought
else, but they did not see
steel box which he had
from its hiding place and
saddle strings,
“You are not going to take me with
you!” cried Lucy as soon as she saw
her horse, and began struggling with
Sarboe, “Barry Haveril, you have no
• right!”
ij “I don't know what to do with you,
; he said heavily, staring at her,
“Then let me go! Oh, please, Bar-
1”
They rode for hours, so long and
up and down such trdilless slopes that
Lucy was drooping wearily in the sad
dle long before Barry called a halt.
And when at last they Stopped and
she slid down stiffly, she had not the
vaguest idea of her whereabouts. Bar
ry had brought them to his old, first
cabin, or rather Into the grove
behind It
“Barry ” said Lucy faintly,
“Well?” he demanded coldly, star
ing up at het
here, the
something
it, the flat
unearthed
tied to his
“I had planned^*” You see, I could
n’t guess you had gotten the ropes
off—”
“Sarboe’s- work. They’d had him
tied an hour; he worked free, got me
free,”
“Would you believe me,” asked
Lucy, and braced herself and uncon
sciously hardened her voice, “if I told
you that I was coming to try to get
you free?”
“No,” he said promptly. “Maybe
I’ve just got to knowing you tonight
Lady Laredo! I saw you on that log
with Jake Goodby—•”
Suddenly, without finishing what lie
was going to say, he moved off
through the grove, lost to them before
he had taken a dozen of his long
strides. He saw the cabin looking
dark among the trees, its rear wall al
most indistinguishable in the shadows.
Under the closed door he saw a thin
thread of wan light.
He stepped softly to the door and
lifted the latch slowly, Then he be
gan shoving the door open. Opened
an inch it gave him a glimpse of the
cabin’s interior.
He could see the foot of the bunk
against the wall; he opened the door
another inch and saw a man’s booted
feet. Some fellow asleep, just as he
had thought likely—
He threw the door wide open. The
man on the bunk did not stir. Barry
stepped into the room, making sure
with a quick glance about him that
there were no other men concealed
the shadows. Then he called out:
“You there! Who are you?”
Still the man did not move.
Barry saw a small ragged pile
wood by the fireplace and threw some
scraps of pitchy pine on the coals.
Then at last the man on the bunk did
stir.
The pine flared up into ' higher,
brighter flame; the cadaverous face of
the man on the bunk seemed to start
forward out of the dark into thejight.
Barry Haveril, spell-bound, slack-jaw
ed in amazement, stood staring back
into those staring eyes.
The man, looking ready to ‘drop
dead, laughed instead. Then he said
thickly, speaking with difficulty; “So
it’s Cousin Barry, huh? Make yulise’f
tuh home, Sundown!” and flopped ov
er on his back again, one lax hand
hanging to the floor.- *
Yes, it was Cousin Jesse.
It was Jesse Conroy.
It was the ..Laredo Kid.
And it was not Tom Haveril.
To. Lucy, beginning to shiver with
cold as the night wind stiffened and
as an utter weariness bore her down,
it seemed that Barry Haveril was nev
er coming back.
“There’s water right over there,
Sarboe,” he said. “Give the horses a
drink, then unsaddle and put them on
'their tie ropes the other side of The
.water hole. Then come along to the
cabin.”
When he spoke his voice was gent
ler than when he had stalked away
from her.
“Tired out, Lucy? Well, it’s been
hell for you, hasn’t it? Want to walk
a hundred yards to shelter and sleep?”
“I want to lie here and die,” said
Lucy miserably. “I hate everything;
I hate living. Leave me alone.’-’
So he gathered her up into his arms.
She struck at him but he did not seem
to notice, and certainly did not mind.
When she saw the bunk and the
man on it, a white-faced, dead looking
man, all the peacefulness of Barry’s
cradling arms and of this quiet, simple
place were wiped out by fresh stark
reality.
“That’s why I had to keep you
waiting,” said Barry. “I though for a
while he was dying. I had to find
where he was hurt and bandage him
up. I’m not going to let him die.”
Luck looked at Barry, no longer
heavy-eyed, but with excited interest
He said, talking distinctly and slowly
and somehow altogether like a man
at the end of his tether:
“He is Jesse Conroy. The Laredo
Kid. And he isn't Tom Haveril—and
I’ve been a fool.”
“Yoh shot him?”
“I wish I,had,” he muttered somb
erly. “No. I found him like that.”
“Then—”
“Haven't I told you already that I
have been a fool? He and Tom Hav
eril were aS alike as two shells out of
the same gun,’except for Tom’s little
devil-beard, And except that Tom
talks different—» Not his voice, just
his way of saying things. I thought
he’d changed with three years, that
was all. Well, I was wrong.”
“Didn’t I tell you all along that you
were wrong?” she exulted. But,
about to speak, she fell silent
“If it wasn't so late, and you so tir
ed,” he said, “I'd take you right back
where I got you, back to Tom Hav
eril, We’ll have to do the best we
can for tonight”
She looked fearfully at the man on
the bunk,
like—”
“No, I
dicl Not
that man
I'd kill him if I never did another
thing.”
■$
"Ho is dying now, He looks
tell you! 1 won't let him
now, I've been looking for
for three years, I've sworn
If there is any one thing more than
another that can get my nanny it’s
those confounded chickens on Satur
day night, Of course during these
summer months it’s quite a ritual to
go to town on Saturday evening and
rub shoulders with practically every
body in this district. While the wives
are either exchanging tid-bits of gos
sip or else giving in their grocery ord
ers at the store we farmers manage
to get around, buy ourselves a nickel
cigar and recall the doings of the
week. At present the weather 'Subject
is running a poor second to the war
situation. If those foreign diplomats
could only arrange to be on hand on
a "Saturday evening they would cer
tainly get more ideas as to how to set
tle the situation than they know what
to do with.
Along about eleven we start for
home, the back seat bundled up with
parcels and several of the neighbours
who walked into town to drop off by
the way. By the time we reach the
turn at the Ninth Concession corner
my eyes begin to get heavy and I have
to keep strict attention on the beam
of light from the headlights else I
would go to sleep. Having arrived at
the front gate Mrs. Phil recalls with
a subdued gasp, “Oh‘, the chickens
weren’t' shut up this evening.” I pro
test that nothing will hurt them, but
the memory of how Mrs. So-and-So
lost seven or eleven or some such am
ount to a weasel and I give up as a
bad task.
Then the lantern must be lit for
growling in the dewy grass of the or
chard. Biddy complains from her
coop that her adolescent charges have
wandered away and left her with only
one runt to mother. She drowsily
chirps out imprecations on the heads
of her stubborn children, who feeling
that they are old enough to take care
of themselves, have ’ wandered away
for the evening.
Prime Minister Neville Chamber- Britain was at war with Germany. He
lain of Britain, who on Sunday an- said “We have a clear conscience, we.
nounccd’to the British Parliament that have done all we could.”
and they’re covered by burrs and!
prickly weed seeds and you’re on the
verge of bad temper. Mrs. Phil meets,
you and then asks “Did you get then\
all?” For a moment you’re almost,
tempted to say something but you re
ply, “Yes,” whether you’ve counted-
them or not, and you go to bed and!
in those few moments before sleep-
comes you begin to wonder if you:
really did get them all or not.
grass. In lifting up the
back the ones captured,
escape .and it’s a matter
run him down until he’s
There is generally certaih to be two
or three on top of the coop. In a nei
ghbouring cherry tree two or three
more have taken up their position on
a lower branch. But those elusive five
or six that remain. Holding the lan
tern aloft in the attitude of the Statue
of Liberty and straining your eyes be-'
yond the feeble circle of light which
it casts you try and see the vagrants.
A drowsy clucking from an .apple
tree and we try and round up all those
remaining. .At least two squawkingly
protest and flutter down to the
ground and scamper a few feet away
into the tall
coop to put
another will
of having to
tired.
Then comes the task of finding the
two which escaped. By this time a
person doesn’t exactly know where
they slipped into the grass, and in
kicking it aside and' pawing around
you come on a nest of burrs. With a
generous, plastering of the sticky burrs
you find the two chickens snuggling
up to each other in drowsy comfort.
Then to gather them up and escort
them upside down back to the coop.
Biddy clucks contentedly and beds
them down for the night, in a fussy-
like and important way as if they were
still tiny chicks instead of being al
most as big as she is herself.
You’re tired and sleepy . . . and your
good suit trousers have been dampen
ed by the dew until they’re almost wet
Here’s A Chain Letter
The Boys Will Go For
There’s a gag chain letter going the*
rounds at present which is causing a.
lot of snickers ... it reads: “Drop the-
top name on this list and add your
name at the bottom. Send a copy of'
this letter to five male friends, then1
bundle-up your wife and send her to
the person who heads this list. When
your name reaches the .top you wilF
will receive 15,175 women!”
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.
COSENS & BOOTH, Agents,
Wingham.
Dr. W. A. McKibbon, B.A.
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Located at the Office of the Late
Dr. H. W. Colborne.
Office Phone 54.
HARRY FRYFOGLE
Licensed Embalmer and
Funeral Director
Furniture and .
Funeral Service
Ambulance Service.
Phones: Day. 109W. Night 109J.
DR. R. L. STEWART
PHYSICIAN 1
Telephone 29.
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.
7 ■ V ... ■ ■ ........................
Dr. Robt. C. REDMOND
M.R.C.S. (England)
L,R.C.P. (London)
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
J. H. CRAWFORD
Barrister, Solicitor, Notary, Etc.
Bands; Investments & Mortgages
Wingham -:- Ontario
Consistent Advertising
in
The Advance-Times
Gets Results
m* *•
DR. W. M< CONNELL
PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON
Phone 19.
R. S. HETHERINGTON
BARRISTER and SOLICITOR
Office —- Morton Block.
Telephone No. 66.
J. ALVIN FOXa
Licensed Drugless Practitioner
CHIROPRACTIC - DRUGLESS
THERAPY - RADIONIC
EQUIPMENT
Hours by Appointment.
Phone 191. Wingham
W, A. CRAWFORD, MD.
Physician and Stirgeon
Located at the office of the late
1)6 J. P» Kennedy,
Phone xso Winghem
Frederick A* Parker
OSTEOPATH
Offices: Centre St., Wingham, and
Main St.,Listowel.
Listowel Days: Tuesdays and Fri-
days.
Osteopathic and Electric Treat
ments. Foot Technique.
Phone 272 Wingham
A. R.&F. E. DUVAL
CHIROPRACTORS
CHIROPRACTIC arid
ELECTRO THERAPY
North Street — Wingham
Telephone 300.