The New Ulm Enterprise (New Ulm, Tex.), Vol. 33, No. 8, Ed. 1 Thursday, December 3, 1942 Page: 3 of 8
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THE NEW ULM ENTEHPKISE, THURSDAY, nECEMHEK 3, IM!
WORK FOOD
M* NatriM**
work will win th* war.
oats
Sfoctod by all QieUfy Aracora.
RESPONSIBILITY FOR SUCCESS
The man who advertises has
responsible man, wouldn't you?
Hard, steady
National 3-Minut* Oat* provid** that last-
ing nourishment important Energy. Iron and
Vitamin Bi. One al Nature's thriftiest usable.
patural source*. Costs leas than Vic par
earring. A basic War Food—eat it regularly.
assumed the responsibility for suc-
cess. You would rather deal with a
By ARTHUR STRINGER
W.X.U.HUICI
Ice floats because, unlike other
substances, when water reaches
freezing point it ceases to contract
as cold things usually do, and in-
explicably starts to expand. This,
of course, makes it lighter, and so
it floats to the surface, because
its mass must remain the same.
If water did not expand when it
turned into ice the seas and lakes
would be permanently frozen, ex-
cept for a few feet of water at
the top, for only the surface re-
ceives the heat rays of the sun,
and ice that had sunk would never
thaw.
Hard on the fish!
Needed Solitude
Solitude is as needful to the im-
agination as society is wholesome
for the character.—James Russel
Lowell.
Inexpensive laiirj
Then let us laugh. It is the
cheapest luxury man enjoys.—Wil-
liam Matthews.
)ME FRONT/
RUTH WYETH SPEARS /
TUB STOAT SO FAB: Bscau* b*
**s Ms parlaar, Cr**sr, Um nwwy
to *••» Norland Airway* la kaslncss,
Alaa Siad* agr*** to Sy a "sclasUst"
aarnM Frayn* aad bl* partner, Baraall,
to lb* Anawotto rtvsr la a*areb al Uia
trumpalrr swan. With Um proceeds Cro-
gar bay* a pl***. a Leckkeed, wbleb to
stolen. When b* returns tram the Ana-
wetto Slade ilarU out to look far the
plaaa. He na* three else*. one at which
appear* to have lead up a blind allay.
Slade Chant he the mtoslas plaaa bad seine
connection tjlta Frayne. bat when ba
returned to where be toft the swan-ksater
there was an Iran* al u>e plaaa, and
Frayne appeared to ba bnaUns swan*.
The second elae I* the story el Dasanak,
Um eeMmo, abeat a "shear* piano that
to supposed to came tram Echo Barber.
The third cine I* Slade's haaeb that U
ba Sad* a Byer named SUm TumsUad
ha will Sad the plane. Tnautoad. who
anew* abeat the Lockheed aad about
Frayne. ha* disappeared. New Slade,
Vasaaak. aad Slade's eld prospector
friends, Zeke and Minty, are all out
looking lor the plane. Slade ha* just
learned that hl* bunch was sound. Turn-
stead to with Frayne, aad they have a
plane somewhere.
New conUnuo with the story.
CHAPTER Kill
“On the contrary,” retorted the
older man, “you will sail away quite
comfortably on the Kovalevka when
she takes out her cargo. You will
be carried safe and sound to Vladi-
vostok, with money enough, remem-
ber, to give you three years of trav-
el tn Europe and all the vodka your
heart may desire.”
Tumstead seemed to be consider-
ing this.
"But why doesn't your Kovalevka
show up?” he questioned.
“She will come," was the precise-
noted answer, “when we are ready
for her Ice conditions have not
been of the best. And we, too, have
been a little slow in getting our
shipment in shape.”
“So damned slow,” Tumstead re-
torted, “your stuff won’t be any use
to you. While you're combing the
icicles out of your hair the war'll
be over.” /
“Silence," commanded the steeli-
er voice. “The men of my race are
taught to do whftt they are com-
manded to do.”
"And somq/of it,” retorted the
other, “I'd -^all uncommonly dirty
work.” S
“It is* not for you to question the
nature of my work.”
Tumstead’s laugh was harsh.
“No, I'm merely a flyer,” he ac-
ceded. “But I’m not the kind who
can keep a ship going without gas.”
It was the older man’s turn to
stand thoughtful.
“That is a problem,” he Anally
said, “which we must in some way
solve.”
Tumstead’s repeated laugh was
edged with bitterness.
‘T've gathered in everything that's
lying round loose between here and
the Pole,” he protested. “And the
next pinch may put us all in the
dog-house.”
“I think not,” said the other. "And
we have a problem more immi-
nent.”
“What problem?”
“Those snoopers which you spoke
of. A means must be found to dis-
courage them.” The speaker's
glance circled about in the uncer-
tain light that surrounded him.
“They may be closer than we imag-
ine."
As Frayne disappeared within the
tent Tumstead groped about for his
fallen cup and reached once more
for the coffeepot. Slade, watching
him, backed quietly away through
the underbrush. But his retreat was
a brief one. He worked his way
down the hollow between the hills
and slowly ascended the opposing
slope. Then, seeking what cover
he could And, he circled back to-
ward the lake front. He stopped,
from time to time, to listen and
look. But nothing, as he went, came
between him and the object of his
advance.
That objective was the shadowy
tangle of spruce trees at the water’s
edge. He noticed, as he drew near-
er, how a rough ramp of spruce
logs had been built out from the
hillside. It was so plainly a landing
stage, to make easier the passing
of heavy freight into a plane cabin,
that no shock of surprise touched
Slade when he peered under the
matted treetops. For, standing there
in the shadows, he saw the stolen
Lockheed.
He climbed to the rough-timbered
ramp and advanced to where two
Oiled ore bags stood together atjts
outer edge. He stooped over one
of the bags, intent on determining
its contents.
lie failed to sec the bare-shoul-
dered and burly figure that
emerged from the tree shadows
behind him and quietly reached
for a spruce bole as long as the
long bare arm that wielded it.
He failed to hear any movement
as the newcomer crept forward, as
silent as a shadow, and brought the
spruce bole down on the stooping
flyer’s head.
Slade went down like a clouted
rabbit.
Slade, as consciousness slowly re-
turned to him, found it no easy mat-
ter to orient himself. His head
throbbed and his body seemed
cramped into quivering helplessness.
Then the singing in his ears and
the quivering of his frame merged
into the throb and drone of a motor.
He awakened to the fact that he
Camel cigarettes and Prince Al-
ber the men in the service, too.
ready to give.—Adv.
is nothing like a carton of ciga-
rettes or a pound of smoking to-
bacco. Great gift favorites for past
ers are featuring Camels in the
gift-wrapped Christmas Carton ar
the handsome “Holiday House”
box of four “flat fifties" (900 ciga-
rettes). Also Prince Albert in ths
PenetrQ
For colds'cough*. ueaJeo<*n*otKSkn*naein
• MILLIONS of housewives,
every day, pay tribute to grand-
mother's advice .. .“Be sure of
results, with Clabber Giri", as
more and more women turn to
the baking powder that has been
a baking day favorite in millions
of homes for years and years.
HULMAN a CO. - nRM HAUTE MDJ
Founded 1S4S
Sound Bones Basis
For Healthy Horses
Fertility of Soil Helps
Develop Healthy Animal
cushion tops and the same amount
for bottoms. Five-eighths yard of
crepe or taffeta will make the fold
around both cushions.
if you want to change feathers
from old cushions, leave a three-
inch opening in the old ticking;
sew the larger opening over the
smaller one and then work the
feathers into the new ticking. Rip
apart carefully and sew the new
ticking with close stitches.
____ • • • .
NOTE: Smart cushions also may be
made by combining smaller pieces ol silk
with cording and other finishes. Book 4.
ol Mrs. Spears' aeries ol homemaking
If horses are to come back on
American farms, they must do so
by way of better soils and fertility
restoration, according to Dr. Wil-
liam A. Albrecht, department of
soils. University of Missouri.
He failed to see the bare-sbouldered and burly figure that emerged
from the tree shadows.
was in a plane, and that plane was
in flight.
He thought, at first, that his bod-
ily helplessness was due to being
so tightly wedged in between soiled
ore bags and the pilot's seat. But it
was due, he found after an effort
or two to move, to the fact that
both his hands and feet were tied.
Memory came back to him as he
lay back trying to figure out the
reason for all this. The final mists
eddied away as he looked up and
saw that the man at the controls
was Tumstead. Slade made no ef-
fort to speak. Instead, he quietly
tugged and twisted, in the hope of
freeing himself. But his struggles
were without result.
The plane's pilot, however, must
have become conscious of them, for
his smile was sardonic as he glanced
back over a shrugging shoulder.
“Coming round?" he nonchalant-
ly called out.
“What does this mean?" demand-
ed Slade.
Tumstead flew on for a moment
or two of silence.
"It means you’re lucky to be
alive,” he finally announced. "That
bullhead who knocked you out went
back for his Luger. He was all set
to give you the works.”
Slade seemed to be giving thought
to that statement.
“What are you going to do with
me?” he asked.
“That,” retorted Tumstead, "is
what I’m trying to figure out. The
easiest way. of course, would be to
drop you overboard. And that's
where you’d go, all right, if we both
weren’t flyers.”
“Then as one flyer to another,”
Slade asked, “why did you steal
this plane?”
Tumstead’s reply to that was a
snort of lau,"liter.
“That's my own affair," he said.
“And you should have known better
than nose in on it.”
“You're flying for Frayne,” said
his prisoner.
“Can you suggest anything bet-
ter?”
Slade considered that question.
“Yes,” he answered, "I know
something better.”
“What?”
“To head back to Waterways with
this Lockheed, while there’s still a
chance of saving your scalp."
Tumstead’s laugh was hard and
reckless.
“Not on your life,” he proclaimed.
“It’s your scalp you need to worry
about. And it’s going to be some
time before you get back to Water-
ways.”
“Why do you say that?”
Tumstead’s glance went over the
terrain beneath his floats.
"Because, a little farther on, I’m
going to drop you where you’ll stay
anchored for a considerable stretch
of time,” he said.
Slade's response to that was to
struggle against the cords constrict-
ing his wrists and ankles. But those
struggles, he still found, were use-
less.
"Are we over the Anawotto?”
questioned Slade, embittered by the
thought of his helplessness.
“We are," answered Tumstead.
"And it’s sure empty country."
Slade's trained ear told him, a
minute later, that they were drop-
ping lower. But from where he lay
he could see nothing of the outside
world. He concluded, from the length
of time that Tumstead taxied along
the surface, that the waterway on
which they had landed was by no
means a small one. He could hear
the grating of the pontoons on a
gravel bar.
“All out," cried Tumstead.
He half-swung and half-tossed his
prisoner ashore, where with a still
deeper sense of helplessness Slade
tumbled full length along the peb-
bled slope. There, after taking a
shuddering breath or two, he writhed
and twisted about until he was
able to fight his way back to a sit-
ting posture.
“So you're going to leave me
here?” he said.
"1 am,” said Tumstead. "And 1
can’t waste time on talk."
“But why are you doing this?"
persisted Slade.
“Because you got too ambitious."
Slade watched the plane being
warped around in the shallows. A
surge of desolation swept over him
as he glanced about at the ice-scored
and barren-ridged island surrounded
by its lonely reaches of open water.
That island, he saw, had little to
offer him. Any scrub timber that
grew between its ridges, he real-
ized, would be too small for the
making of a ratt. And even with a
raft to deliver him from that watery
prison, he further realized as he
stared about at the distant blue-
hazed horizon, he would face a wil-
derness quite empty of life.
"I won’t get away,” he said, “and
you know it.”
Tumstead’s laugh was defensively
gruff.
“Let's hope for the best,” he said
as he turned back to his cabin. He
emerged, a moment later, with a
sheath-knife in an old and battered
holster. But as the other man un-
sheathed the knife Slade saw that
the blade was keen-edged and long.
His eye remained on Tumstead as
he stepped closer, the knife in his
hand. The quick look of apprehen-
sion that came from his captive
caused Tumstead’s dark face to
crease with a smile.
"I’m not that yellow," the latter
announced as he stooped and cut
the cords that bound Slade’s wrists
together. He was about to do the
same with the cords that bound the
ankles. But on second thought he
drew back and replaced the knife
in its sheath. This, after a moment's
hesitation, he tossed a few paces
farther up the shore slope, discreet-
ly out of reach. Then as Slade sat
trying to work life back into his
benumbed hands the older man cool-
ly explored the other’s pockets.
From them he extracted a lighter
and a package of cigarettes.
A cynic smile played about his
lips as he touched the little flame
to a cigarette end and tossed the
lighter back to its owner.
"You may need that,” he ob-
served. "But seeing I’ve been out
of fags for over a week I’ll keep the
smokes.”
“So that’s all the chance you give
me,” said Slade, watching him as
he luxuriously inhaled.
"It's about all 1 can afford,” Tum-
stead said as he swung about and
glanced down at his fellow-flyer. No
look of commiseration softened the
older man’s face. But for a moment
a frown of meditation wrinkled his
forehead, a frown followed by a
small shoulder movement of dis-
missal.
“Happy landing,” was his curtly
ironic exclamation as he turned
away and climbed aboard his ship.
The rnan on the beach waited for
the roar of the motor. But that
familiar crescendo of sound failed
to greet him. What he heard, in-
stead, was Tumstead’s cynically in-
different voice calling down to him.
At the same time a package was
tossed ashore.
“That’s a pound of German army
chocolate,” Tumstead announced as
he tossed still another object toward
the motionless figure on the shore
slope. “And here’s a can of bully-
beef.”
He shrugged when no word of
gratitude came from that still mo-
tionless figure.
"And here's something for your
cigarettes,” was Tumstead’s last
curt call as he threw overboard an
empty tobacco-tin which struck
Slade on the shoulder and came to
a rest between his throbbing knees.
Slade sat watching the plane as it
taxied across the gray-blue water
and rose in the air. He continued
to watch as it headed northward
over the blue-misted ridges and fad-
ed away along the empty skyline.
He sat without moving until the
ache in his tightly bound ankles re-
minded him of other things. Then
he looked about for the sheath-knife.
He gave a gulp of gratitude when
he saw it lying there, within ten
paces of him. it took him some
time to worm his way to the knife.
But a little of the listlessness went
out of his face as his fingers closed
about the heavy haft.
He lost no time in sawing through
the cords and freeing his feet. When
he attempted to stand up, however,
he discovered that his benumbed
legs were unable to support him. He
had to sit there, for several min-
utes, waiting for feeling to come
back to them.
(TO BE CONTINVED*
Mechanical genius may have
brought to the tractor, but it to
going to take more than the
diversion of steel to war needs
and rationing tractors to the ex-
tent of their elimination to bring
GOOD horses back.
Sound bones are the basis of good
horses. Such bones can best be
made by healthy bodies that get the
necessary bone ingredients — lime
and phosphate—from the soil by way
of nourishing foods.
Even before the tractor came into
common use, bone blemishes on
horses were all too numerous. For-
tunately we didn’t associate the de-
clining store of fertility in our own
soils with increasing spavins, splints
and side bones. Now that increas-
ing cultivation by tractor and di-
minishing amounts of manure and
fertility going back to our soils havs
depleted these soils to the point
where they won’t grow crops fast
enough to stop erosion, we can't
bring back good horses merely by
economic necessity; we can bring
them back only by means of better
soils and restoration of fertility.
Much sensible research is now
going forward to give us better
pastures. Much effort to being
put into the search for substi-
tute grazing crops. To date most
horsemen will agree there has
been nothing found to take the
place of white elover and blue-
grass. But clover goes out with
the mineral depletion of the soil,
and the departure of the elover
means that the bluegrass be-
comes less nutritious.
Substitutes have come because of
neglect of the soil. Unfortunately,
these substitute crops tend to be-
come mere mineral haulers. The
minerals they deliver consist mors
of silica with no feed value in place
of calcium, phosphorus, and all else
of nutritive value that comes from
them. Thus we may expect animals
to be in trouble when compelled to
eat herbage, getting little of these
essentials from the soil. Animals
Well-fed soil produces sturdier
horse flesh and stronger pulling
power.
know their forage so well that even
a blind horse, according to Doctor
Dodds of Ohio State university, will
graze to the line of soil treatments
represented by only a few hundred
pounds of fertilizer.
We might then expect that the
thousands of pounds of fertilizer
hauled off through years of farm-
ing are a decided disturbance in
animal behaviors.
In place of going to a drug-
store for mineral supplements,
it would seem better to let the
animals make their own selec-
tion via plants from a liberal
variety of them in the form of
fertilizers put back on the soil.
Animal production is not wholly
a matter of short cuts and eco-
nomics, but a co-operative effort
on our part in the complex per-
formance of nature.
Fortunately the Com Belt and
much more of the United States
were blessed with good soils, par-
ticularly for horses, as pre-tractor
days demonstrated. They will again
be good soils for horses if we will
treat our pastures with the proper
mineral fertilizers to restore white
clover—the bluegrass fertilizing leg-
ume.
Fertility depletion during the
youthful period of Americanism to-
ward our soil need not prohibit our
handling it from this day forth with
the maturer judgment of American
adulthood apparently about to ar-
rive. We can hold our soils at the
present level, and even build back
towards its original fertility.
Turkey Sales Increase
Probably the most outstanding
change in the poultry marketing pic-
ture during the past five years has
been the increase in the number ol
turkeys raised and sold.
Grain Storage
Federal farm officials are appeal-
ing to farmers to make arrange-
ments for more grain storage facili-
ties on their farms due to restric-
tions on shipment of grains to ter-
minal warehouses.
cushions will be little if you
MBS. SITS WYETH STEAMS
crepe or taffeta to make a fold
edge as shown here in the sketch.
A yard will make two 18-inch
Floating Ice
CLABBER GIRL
I
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The New Ulm Enterprise (New Ulm, Tex.), Vol. 33, No. 8, Ed. 1 Thursday, December 3, 1942, newspaper, December 3, 1942; New Ulm, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1208062/m1/3/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Nesbitt Memorial Library.