Shiner Gazette (Shiner, Tex.), Vol. 43, No. 7, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 13, 1936 Page: 3 of 8
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SHINER GAZETTE, SHINER, TEXAS
“Stuff a Cold and Starve
Fever” Wrong, Says Doctor
I do not know who was responsible
for the slogan, “Stuff a cold and
starve a fever.” Perhaps the same
one who started, “Eat, drink, and be
merry, for tomorrow we die.” To
follow the former ■would probably
result in dying, though perhaps with
little merriment. It is unfortunate
that slogans have so strong a hold
on people and so powerful an in-
fluence on conduct.
Don’t stuff a cold or starve a
fever! Eat not by slogan but to'
meet the particular situation. In
that way lies intelligent treatment.
But don’t try to treat a fever, or a
bad cold either, without expert ad-
vice. Consult your family doctor
and follow his directions.—Dr. Wal-
ter H. Eddy, director Good House-
keeping Bureau.
The
Man Who
Knows
Whether the Remedy
You are taking for
Headaches, Neuralgia
or Rheumatism Pains
is SAFE is Your Doctor.
Ask Him
Don’t Entrust Your
Own or Your Family’s
Well-Being to Unknown
Preparations
T5EFORE you take any prepara-
■D tion you don’t know all about,
for the relief of headaches; or the
pains of rheumatism, neuritis or
neuralgia, ask your doctor what he
thinks about it — in comparison
with Genuine Bayer Aspirin.
We say this because, before the
discovery of Bayer Aspirin, most
so-called “pain” remedies were ad-
vised against by physicians as being
bad for the stomach; or, often, for
the heart. And the discovery of
Bayer Aspirin largely changed
medical practice. •
Countless thousands of people
who have taken Bayer Aspirin year
in and out without ill effect, nave
proved that the medical findings
about its safety were correct.
Remember this: Genuine Bayer
Aspirin is rated among the fastest
methods yet discovered for the relief
of headaches and all common pains
... and safe for the average person
to take regularly.
You can get real Bayer Aspirin at
any drug store — simply by never
asking for it by the name “aspirin”
alone, but always saying BAYER
ASPIRIN when you buy.
Bayer Aspirin
Stay Sweet
You can take life seriously with-
out being a pessimist.
VEGETABLE
CORRECTIVE
DID TRICK
They were getting on each
other’s nerves. Intestinal
sluggishness was really
the cause—made them
tired with frequent head-
aches, bilious spells. But
that is all changed now.
For they discovered, like
millions of others, that
nature provided the cor-
rect laxatives in plants____________,_
and vegetables. Tonight
try Nature’s Remedy (NR Tablets). How much
better you feel—invigorated, refreshed. Impor
tant—you do not have to increase the dose
<gSSHllS§&
They contain no
phenol or miner-
al derivatives.
Only 25c —all
druggists.
And a Blessing
Physicians like to doctor a cheer-
ful man. That’s co-operation.
Black-Draught’s Reputation
The confidence people have in
Black-Draught, built up from satis-
factory use so many years, is shown
in its being handed on from one gen-
eration to another. It must be good
to have such a strong following.
“We have used Black-Draught for twen-
ty years,” writes Mr. Fred Richardson, of
Hartshorne, Okla. “My mother has used it
for fifty years. It, is the best medicine I
know anything about. I take it for sour
stomach and constipation, or when I feel
sluggish and bad. Black-Draught is splen-
did to regulate the bowels, cleansing them
of waste matter, ridding them of constipa-
tion. I expect to use it twenty-five years
more if I live and it gives satisfaction as
it has always given.”
WNU—P
7—36
FLAME
IN THE
FOREST
By
HAROLD TITUS
Illustrations by Irwin Myers
Copyright by Harold Titus.
WNU Service.
CHAPTER I
Smoke filled his eyes and his throat.
Heat, so intense that it seemed to be
fluid, poured Over them. The sound
of the speeder’s motor and the clatter
of its wheels on the uneven rails was
almost drowned in the raging voice of
the fire; and Tod, an arm around him,
holding him close as they rocked and
swayed down the grade, was trembling.
But he wasn’t going to cry, even if
he was more scared than he ever had
been in his seven years of experience.
Not much, he wasn’t! He hugged the
precious letter-file with old Jack’s pay-
roll in it closer, and tried to look
ahead; and when he saw living flames
from the burning cars of chemical
wood swept across the track like a cur-
tain, he threw himself flat and
squeezed his eyes shut and held his
breath, and did not complain with so
much as a grunt when Tod’s big body,
sprawling suddenly over his small one,
made his ribs bend out of shape. No,
sir! This was no time to act like a
baby! •
Headquarters was going, sure
enough, but they were getting good old
Jack’s money out to safety. That was
his job: to help save good old Jack
from going bust. When you’ve got a
job like that, for a man like that, you
can’t let on you’re scared, can you?
No; not even at seven, you can’t!
He had been outside the office, stand-
ing in the deserted camp clearing, star-
ing off up the road which Jack and
the crew had taken before daylight,
and where the cook had just gone with
dinner for the fire-fighters, when the
bookkeeper called to him.
“Listen, Kerry,” Tod had said. “I
want you to sit right here until I call
you or come back. Wind*s getting
This Was No Time to Act Like
a Baby.
Worse. They had her stopped last night,
but you never can tell when fire’ll stay
stopped, weather like this.”
His big, ordinarily good-natured face
was white, and fine beads of moisture
pricked out above his eyebrows.
“Sure,” said Kerry Young, and swal-
lowed, his heart going faster with Tod
looking so seared.
“Now, listen careful. I took the pay-
roll out of the cash drawer, see? It’s
in this letter-file—this one, right here.”
He laid his hand on the brown box on
top of the safe. Another file was on
the desk, and more on a shelf above
it; but Tod put his hand right on that
special one. “I’m goin’ out to scout
around. If anything happens, it may
happen fast The speeder’s right on
the track, now—right by the water-
tank, there. If I yell, you bring the
file and come a-runnin’. Understand
that?”
“Sure, Tod,” said Kerry, and swal-
lowed again, even if his mouth was
drier than ever.
“Good boy! Everybody’s got to do
his part, time like this. I’m uneasy
about the wind. Remember, now; if I
yell ...”
He went out, then, and Kerry sat
down on a chair, with his breath flut-
tery in his throat. Responsibility sat
heavily on his small shoulders, but
he’ll do just what Tod had told him
to do. That pay-roll was old Jack’s
money, and he’d break his neck to help
old Jack, he would! Good old Jack,
who had found him in the house the
day before his mother died, and got
the doctor and did all that he could do,
and whb, after it was all over and he
was alone, brought him to camp. That
had been winter before last, and it
looked as if he was going to stay with
Jack forever. He certainly hoped so.
Nobody in the world could be so kind
to a little boy who had nobody else
to look out for him as could old Jack,
and breaking your neck for a man like
that would be little enough to do.
had been in town when it came up,
and had come back, driving the engine
himself, snaking the empties over the
steel fit to shake the stakes out. He
had given her the air so hard that the
whole train slid, streaming fire from
every wheel, and then, jumping down
from the cab, he came running fast
as he could for the office.
The crew was on the fire then, of
course, and old Jack’s voice, generally
so good-natured, was sharp as a knife
when he questioned Tod who was tele-
phoning for more wardens. Jack stuffed
the payroll money into the safe as he
talked, and then, telling Tod certain
things to do all in one breath, he
jumped into the waiting buckboard and
galloped to the southward, where a
mile-wide front of slash fire advanced
toward camp.
Kerry waked up when Jack came in
that night. Their room was next the
office, with a big bed and a little one;
and he lay in his little one and looked
through the open doorway and saw
Jack standing by the desk, shirt all
scorched, hair singed, talking lowly to
Tod. It was bad, he said. He’d
brought half the crew in to get some
resf; he’d turn in himself and try to
catch a wink, because with all that
chopping afire, tomorrow was going to
be hell itself. . . .
And tomorrow was, with the tele-
phone ringing and help from town com-
ing through all day, and the smoke
thick and thicker, and logging wholly
forgotten in this emergency.
But at breakfast this morning, eaten
before the first crack of dawn, Jack
had said:
“We got an even break, now. We’d
ought to hold her, but you never can
tell. Why, yesterday, some of them
damn’ birch stubs got burnin’ clean
to the top, ’nd I’ll bet they was throw-
in’ live brands half a mile ahead of
’em.”
“And they might go further than
that,” Tod West commented.
They might, another said; not likely,
but still they might and then Jack
pulled Tod to one side where nobody
but Kerry could hear and said:
“Since this thing broke I’ve thought
no more about pay-roll than the boys
have about pay day. Shows I’m gettin’
old. You’ll be here, Tod. Somebody
with a head on ’em’s got to stay by
the telephone again. It ain’t likely
she’ll get-away from us. If she does,
it ain’t likely she’ll get clean to camp
in a hurry. But if anything should
happen, you get that pay-roll into town.
Silver’s all right, but it’s mostly bills
’nd bills’d burn sure in that old safe of
mine.”
“They sure would,” agreed Tod.
Then Jack had looked at Kerry.
“Be good boy, son!” he said cheerily,
as if he were only going out on the job
and not to a fire line. “Be good boy,”
—and tweaked Kerry’s ear playfully.
“And him,” he said to Tod, suddenly
sober and jerking his head at the lad.
“Twenty-two hunderd, small as it is, ’d
bust me right now, so get that out
if anything pops. But him ... If you
get a chance, send him into town
anyways.” ... So Kerry knew that
Jack thought more of him than he
did of going bust.
He sat there a long time, feeling im-
portant. It wasn’t much that he could
do for Jack ever, but now, watching
that file, he knew that if fire should
come into camp he’d grab that box
and get to the speeder faster than he
had ever gotten anywhere before in his
life. He rose finally and looked through
the window toward the water tank
where the speeder waited. Tod West
was just then coming up from the ald-
ers along the creek, looking around in
a funny wary, as if he expected to see
somebody or something alarming and
Kerry, for the moment, almost hoped
that the bookkeeper would see fire
so he would have a chance to do
something for good old Jack.
But when, only minutes later, he
heard Tod bawling his name, his heart
went flippety-flop and almost choked
him.
“Kerry! . . . Kerry! . . . A-runnin’,
Kerry!”
And he was running desperately,
hugging the file against his belly, leg-
ging it with all his might for the speed-
er waiting by the water tank.
He threw a look to his left where
a streamer of thick, white smoke was
coming up to mingle with the blue haze
which had been drifting through camp
for three days. Brush was on fire
south of the barn. In a moment he
could see orange tongues of flame lick-
ing at more brush piles.
Tod began trying to save the cook
shanty and Kerry wondered why he
didn’t throw water on the office, which
was in greater danger, but Tod, too,
was terribly excited. The boy could tell
that by the way he acted when he ran
up to the speeder.
“She’s goin’!” he yelled. “Old office’s
goin’, Kerry!” His voice 'was funny,
for all the world as though he were
glad because the office was being licked
by hungry, fast-devouring flames.
He did not start away at once. He
stood there priming the motor slowly,
spilling gasoline b'ecause his hands
shook so much. He did not look at
what he was doing, either. He kept
his eyes on the office where flames were
licking at the roof, eating into the
hewn log sides, seeming to melt holes
in those stout timbers.
“She’s goin’, Kerry!” he said and
gave a queer laugh which made the
boy wonder if grown men, also, some-
times laughed when they felt like cry-
ing.
He glanced at Kerry, then, and at
the letter-file and licked his lips.
“Sure you got the right one?” he
asked.
“The one you told me,” — stoutly.
“We’d better haul, hadn’t we?”
“Just a minute, now!”
He waited, standing there and watch-'
ing while a part of the office roof tum-
bled in. Only thnn did he shove the
speeder ahead until the motor caught
and coughed.
If he had started just a minute
earlier they would not have had to
face that barrier of living fire across
the track and the boy might have made
it to town without a whimper.
And then they were there, zooming
past the siding, and he screamed from
the heat that beat upon him; opened
his throat and yelled and writhed
against the weight of Tod’s body. The
smell of burning paint poured into his
nostrils and then, suddenly, the tor-
ture was past and he was half sit-
ting up and they were hitting it down
the grade.
Then he felt better and they were
clicking over switch points and here
was town and the motor stopped and
Tod West was calling out to somebody
with a lot more excitement than he
had shown back at camp that Jack’s
headquarters were burning.
A group quickly gathered, mostly old
men and boys, because the best man
power of town was out on the fire line,
and they followed Tod and Kerry
across the street to the bank.
They crowded into the hank and a
man rose from his desk behind the
counter.
“Jack’s headquarters are gone,” said
Tod, handing the file to the man. “But
we brought in the pay-roll. Did my
damnedest to save something of camp
but I was alone. Kerry, here, lugged
the money out of the office just in
time.”
“That’s fine,” said the banker, press-
ing the catch of the file. “That’s sure
lucky! I happen to know that if Jack
should lose—”
He stopped short, then, and Tod
leaned forward and the others pressed
up close, attracted by the looli on
West’s face, likely. It was a look that
even a seven-year-old boy would no-
tice.
“Why,” the banker said, “why, Tod,
it’s empty!”.
A moment of terrific silence followed
and then Tod looked down at Kerry
and said in a queer, unfriendly way:
“Kid, which file did you bring?”
The boy swallowed, with a new sort
of thrill running his small frame.
“Why,” he said, “why, I fetched . . .
You told me the one on the safe, Tod!”
The bookkeeper swore slowly under
his breath and looked at the banker.
“Good God, I trusted him!” he said
in a whisper.
The other clicked his tongue.
“Oh-h!” he said, long-drawn. “But he’s
only a little boy,” he added and
slapped the file shut. “That surely is
going to be tough for Jack!”
Kerry’s knees were shaking and
there seemed to be a vacant place in
his middle.
“Tod, what’s the matter?” he asked
shrilly. “Tod, is the money back yon-
der? Did it burn up, Tod?” And then,
summoning all his vigor, “Tod, I done
just what you told me!”
West shook his head. “No, you
didn’t understand,” he said in a moan.
“You didn’t understand, and the mon-
ey’s burned sure as hell and . . . My
God, boys, it’s my fault!”
He said other things but Kerry did
not hear. He moved away a little.
Someone said: “The kid got rat-
tled.”
Another said: “It ain’t your fault,
Tod. The kid, he got rattled.”
A third said: “It’ll be all day with
old Jack now!”
They all looked at the boy and he
knew they were blaming him. All but
Tod. Tod did not look his way; there
was something funny about Tod’s eyes.
But the others . . .
His nostrils smarted and a lump
swelled in his throat suddenly. A help-
less feeling ran his bones and a sense
of having been put-upon, abused, out-
raged. Jack had gone bust because
his pay-roll was burned up but he had
done just as he had been told to
do. . . .
And before he knew what he was do-
ing, he was sobbing just that:
“I fetched the one you told me! I
did! I did!”
He got that far before his sobs
choked him and he slunk to a corner,
5
X
"Kid, Which File Did You Bring?”
burying his face in his arms. Old Jack
was bust and they said it was because
he got rattled when he had done as
he’d been told and tried his best to
help! The world, indeed, was a
wretched place. It was Tod who had
been wrong. . . . Wrong and funny
acting, too.
CHAPTER II
It rained toward evening and Jack
Snow got to town at dusk. He had
heard about bis camp, of course, but
he had not heard about the loss of his
pay-roll. And when they told him he
said nothing for, perhaps, a quarter
of a minute but in those seconds he
aged. Before, men had called him Old
Jack because they loved him. . . . After-
ward, he was an old man, in fact.
The first thing he said after he knew
the worst that had happened referred
to Kerry. He looked at the boy and
winked and managed a sort of grin and
said “But you’re all right, son!” as
if that were all he would admit as be-
ing of any importance.
And after that he said but little
for days. He appeared to listen when
people talked but if he heard he sel-
dom answered properly.
Once he said to Kerry, when they
were alone in their room at the mill
boarding house:
“Tough, to let a coupla thousand
bust you. . . . But it was that dost.”
He managed to rustle enough to pay
off the crew; that is, those who would
take what they had coming. Most of
the old timers left town without com-
ing around for’ their pay or waiting
for Jack to look them up. He was
their friend; he was in trouble.
He began to be feverish and talked
at night in his sleep, holding the little
boy close in his arms while the tre-
mors ran through him.
Tod West came to say good-bye and
declared again that it was his fault,
that he should have fetched the letter-
file himself.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Begin it now_
FLAME in the FOREST
A Big Woods Serial With Action
By Harold Titus
Start right here on one of
the swiftest, smackin ’ est
adventures of your whole
life. Never before has even
this noted writer of out-
door adventure stories
reached the peak of two-
fisted he-man action of
FLAME IN THE FOREST.
Begin today with Kerry
Young in his determined
search for the man who
wronged him when he was
only a boy—you’ll never give
up until you’ve finished the
last thrilling chapter! Start
FLAME IN TEE FOREST
THIS IS THE
FIRST INSTALLMENT
Begin now and follow FLAME IN THE
FOREST every week in this newspaper
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Lane, Ella E.; Plageman, Cecile & Plageman, Annie Louise. Shiner Gazette (Shiner, Tex.), Vol. 43, No. 7, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 13, 1936, newspaper, February 13, 1936; Shiner, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1160784/m1/3/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Shiner Public Library.