The Cumby Rustler. (Cumby, Tex.), Vol. 21, No. 17, Ed. 1 Friday, July 26, 1912 Page: 3 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Hopkins County Area Newspapers and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the Hopkins County Genealogical Society.
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THE
DEflh
lLE Or THE PLAINS
PANDALL PADBIStf ,
Author Of* My Lady Of The 6outhT nW
“WhEM WILDERNESS WAS KlM<i CTC.CTC -TW
JU-U5TRATIONS By DfiARMBn MclviliT-v-
tCopyrl»hL A. C- McClurg A Co. 3J*U
SYNOPSIS.
Jack Keith, a Virginian, now a bor-
der plainsman, is looking for roaming war
parties of savages. He sees a wagon team
at full gallop pursued by men on ponies.
When Keith reaches the wagon the raid-
ers have massacred two men and de-
parted. He searches the victims finding
papers and a locket with a woman s por-
trait. Keith is arrested at Carson City,
charged with the murder, his accuser be-
ing a ruffian named Black Bart.
companion in his cell named Neb tells mm
; that he knew the Keiths in Virginia. Neb
says one of the murdered men was Jonn
l Sibley, the other Gen. Willis Waite, form-
erly a Confederate officer. The plainsman
and Neb escape, and later the fugitives
come upon a cabin and find its occupant
to be a young girl, whom Keith thinks
he saw at Carson City. The girlexplalns
that she is in search of a brother, who
had deserted from the army, and that a
! Mr. Hawley induced her to come to the
! cabin while he sought her brother. Haw-
ley appears, and Keith in hiding recog-
nizes him as Black Bart. There is a ter-
i rtflc battle in the darkened room In whlcn
(Keith is victor. Horses are appropriated,
land the girl who says that her name is
Hope, joins in the escape. Keith explains
I his situation and the fugitives make for
i Fort Larned, where the girl Is left with
ithe hotel landlady. Miss Hope tells that
she is the daughter of General Waite.
Keith and Neb drift into Sheridan, wnere
Keith meets an old friend. Hr. Fairbaln.
Keith meets the brother of Hope Waite,
tinder the assumed name of Fred Wll-
. loughby, and becomes convinced that
Black Bart has some plot Involving the
two. Hope learns .that Gen. Waite, who
was thought murdered, is at Sheridan.
*nd goes there, where she is mistaken for.
Christie Maelaire. the Carson City singer.
Keith meets the real Christie Maelaire
And finds that Black Bart has convinced
. ner that there is a mystery in her life
which he is going to turn to her advan-
tage. The plainsman tells Hope Waite of
her resemblance to Christie Maelaire.
They decide that Fred Willoughby may
hold the key to the situation. Keith finds
Willoughby shot dead. Hope Is told of
the death of her brother. Keith fails to
learn what representations Black Bart
has made to Christie Maelaire. Hope
suggests that In order to learn the secret
she must briefly Impersonate the stage
singer. Dr. Fairbaln is in love with
Christie Maelaire and Keith induces him
to detain her from the stage while Hope
goes to the theater where she meets
Black Bart, who. thus deceived, tells
Hope that General Waite has suspected
his plans and that they must fly. Hope,
greatly alarmed, demurs. General Waite
appears and says Black Bart has stolen
papers from him regarding an inheri-
tance. Keith is informed that Christie
Maclaire's real name is Phyllis Gale and
that she Is the half sister of Hope. The
latter has been carried away by Black
•Bart and his gang. Dr. Fairbaln avows
his love for Phyllis and she accepts him.
Keith and his friends strike the trail of
-Black Bart. They find Hope has been ta-
ken back to the old cabin. The wilderness
•cabin is the scene of a fight in which
Keith and his partners overcome their
outlaw enemies. Black Bart and the
plainsman meet In a duel for final ac-
counting.
> -2
(r
ly
0^O
CHAPTER XXXVI.—(Continued.)
Keith wet his dry lips and spoke
«hortly:
“I reckon you know what this
means, Hawley, and why I am here.
We’re Southerners both of us, and
we settle our own personal affairs.
You’ve got to fight me now, man to
man.”
The gambler glanced about him, and
down at his horse. If he thought of
flight it was useless. His lip curled
with contempt.
"Damn your talking, Keith,” he re-
turned savagely. “Let’s have It over
with," and spurred his horse. The
Cun of the other came up.
“Walt!” and Hawley paused, drag-
Clng at his rein. “One of us most like-
ly is going to die here; perhaps both.
But if either survives he’ll need a
horse to get out of this alive. Dis-
mount; I’ll do the same; step away
»o the horses are out of range, and
then we’ll fight It out—is that
•quare?”
Without a word, his eyes gleaming
with cunning hatred, the gambler
swung down from his saddle onto the
cand, his horse Interposed between
him and the other. Keith did the
same, his eyes peering across the
back of his animal.
“Now,” he said steadily, “when 1
count three drive your horse aside,
sod let go—are you ready?”
“Damn you—yes!”
"Then look out—one! two! three!"
The plainsman struck his horse
with the quirt in his left hand and
sprang swiftly aside so as to clear the
flank of the animal, his shooting arm
flung out. There was a flash of flame
cross Hawley’s saddle, a sharp re-
port, and Keith reeled backward,
dropping to his knees, one hand clutch-
ing at the sand. Again Hawley fired,
but the horse, startled by the double
report, leaped aside, and the ball went
wild. Keith wheeled about, steadying
felmself with his outstretched hand,
And let drive, pressing the trigger, un-
til, through the haze over his eyes, he
saw Hawley go stumbling down, shoot-
ing wildly as he fell. The man never
moved, and Keith endeavored to get
up, his gun still held ready, the smoke
circling about them. He had been
shot treacherously, as a cowardly cur
might shoot, and he could not clear
bis mind of the thought that this last
set hid treachery also. But he could
not raise himself, copld not stand; red
and black shadows danced before his
eyes; he believed he saw the arm of
the other move. Like a snake he
crept forward, holding himself up with
one hand, his head dizzily reeling, but
his gun held steadily on that black,
shapeless object lying on the sand.
Then the revolver hand began to
quiver, to shake, to make odd circles;
he couldn’t see; It was all black, all
nothingness. Suddenly he went down
face first into the sand.
They both lay motionless, the thirs-
ty sand drinking in their life blood,
Hawley huddled upon his left side, his
feat still shading the glazing eyes.
“Hope—Hopei
Keith lying flat, his face in the crook
of an arm whose hand still gripped a
revolver. There was a grim smile on
his lips, as if, as he pitched forward,
he knew that, after he had been shot
to death, he had gotten his man. The
riderless horses gazed at the two fig-
ures, and drifted away, slowly, fear-
fully, still held in mute subjection to
their dead masters by dangling reins.
The sun blazed down from directly
overhead, the heat waves rising and
falling, the dead, desolate desert
stretching to the sky. An hour, two
passed. The horses were now a hun-
dred yards away, nose to nose; all
else was changeless. Then Into the
far northern sky there rose a black
speck, growing larger and larger; oth-
ers came from the east and west, beat-
ing the air with widely outspread
wings, great beaks stretched forward.
Out from their nests of foulness the
desert scavengers were coming for
their spoil.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
At the \Auter-Hole.
Up from the far, dim southwest
they rode slowly, silently, wearied
still by the exertions of the past night,
and burned by the fierce rays of the
desert sun. No wind of sufficient force
had blown since Keith passed that
way, and they could easily follow the
hoof prints of his horse across the
sand waste. Brlstoe was ahead, hat
brim drawn low, scanning the horizon
line unceasingly. Somewhere out in
the midst of that mystery was hidden
tragedy, and he dreaded the knowl-
edge of its truth. Behind him Fair-
bain and Hope rode together, their lips
long since grown silent, the man ever
glancing uneasily aside at her, the
girl drooping slightly in the saddle,
with pale face and heavy eyes. Five
prisoners, lashed together, the bind-
ing rope fastened to the pommels of
the two “Bar X” men’s saddles, were
bunched together, and behind all came
Neb, his black face glistening in the
heat.
Suddenly Brlstoe drew rein, and
rose to the full length in the stirrups,
shading his eyes from the sun’s glare,
as he stared ahead. Two motionless
black spects were visible—yet were
they motionless? or was It the heat
waves which seemed to yield them
movement? He drove In his spurs,
driving his startled horse to the
summit of a low sand ridge, and again
halted, gazing Intently forward. He
was not mistaken—they were horses.
Knowing Instantly what it meant—
those riderless animals drifting dere-
lict in the heart of the desert—his
throat dry with fear, the scout
wheeled, and spurred back to his
party, quickly resolving on a course
of action. Hawley and Keith had
met; both had fallen, either dead or
wounded. A moment’s delay now
might cost a life; he would need Fair-
bain, but he must keep the girl back,
if possible. But could he? She
straightened up In the saddle as he
came spurring toward them; her eyes
wide open, one hand clutching at her
throat.
“Doctor,” he called as soon as he
was near enough, his horse circling,
“thar Is somethin’ showin’ out yon-
METHOD OF SERVING DESSERT MADE BIG PROFIT FOR STATE
der I’d like ter take a look at, an’ 1
reckon you better go ’long. The nig-
ger kin com’ up ahead yere with Miss
Waite."
She struck her horse, and he
plunged forward, bringing her face
to face with Brlstoe.
“What Is It? Tell me, what Is It?”
"Nothin' but a loose hoss, Miss.”
“A horse! here on the desert?”
looking about, her eyes dark with hor-
ror. "But how could that be? Could
—could it be Captain Keith’s?”
Brlstoe cast an appealing glance at
Fairbaln, mopping his face vigorously,
not knowing what to say, and the oth-
er attempted to turn the tide.
“Not likely—not likely at all-—no
reason why it should be—probably
Just a stray horse—you stay back
here, Miss Hope—Ben and I will find
out, and let you know.”
“No, I’m going,” she cried, etlfllng a
sob tn her throat. “It would kill me
to wait here.”
She was off before either might
raise hand or voice in protest, and
they could only urge their horses in
effort to overtake her, the three ra-
cing forward fetlock deep in sand.
Mounted upon a swifter animal Falr-
bfiin forged ahead; he could see the
two horses now plainly, their heads
uplifted, their reins dangling. With-
out perceiving more he knew already
what was waiting there on the sand,
aDd swore fiercely, spurring his horse
mercilessly, forgetful of all else, even
the girl. In his Intense desire to reach
and touch the bodies. He had begged
to do this himself, to be privileged
to seek this man Hawley, to kill him—
but now he was the physician, with no
other thought except a hope to save.
Before his horse had even stopped he
flung himself from the saddle, ran
forward and dropped on his knees be-
side Keith, bending his ear to the
chest, grasping the wrist In his fin-
gers. As the others approached, he
glanced up, no conception now of
aught save hb> ewn professional work.
“Water, Brlstoe,-' he exclaimed
sharply. “Dash some brandy In it.
Quick now. There, that’s It; hold his
head up—higher. Yes, you do it. Miss
Hope; here, Ben, take this, and pry
his teeth open—well, he got a swallow
anyhow. Hold him just as he Is—can
you stand it? I’ve got to find where
he was hit."
“Yes—yes,” she answered, “don’t—
don’t mind me.”
He tore open the woolen shirt,
soaked with blood already hardening,
felt within with skilled fingers, his
eyes keen, his lips muttering uncon-
sciously.
“Quarter of an Inch—quarter of an
inch too high—scraped the lung—
Lord. If I can only get It out—got to
do it now—can’t wait—here, Brlstoe,
that leather case on my saddle—run,
damn you—we’ll save him yet, girl—
there, drop his head In your lap—yes,
cry if you want to—only hold still—
open the case, will you—down here,
where I can reach It—now water—all
our canteens—Hope, tear me off a
strip of your under-skirt—what am 1
going to do?—extract the ball—got to
do It—blood poison In this sun."
She ripped her skirt, handing it to
him without a word; then dropped her
| white face la hey hands, bending.
with closed eyes, over the whiter face
resting on her lap, her lips trembling
with the one prayer, “Oh, God! Oh,
God!” How long he was at it, or
what he did, she scarcely knew—she
heard the splash of water; caught the
flash of the sun on the probe; felt the
half conscious shudder of the wound-
ed man, whose head was in her lap,
the deft, quick movements of Fair-
bain, and then—
“That’s it—I’ve got it—missed the
lifng by a hair—damn me I’m proud of
that job—you’re a good girl.”
She looked at him, scarce able to
see, her eyes blinded with tears.
“Will—will he live? Oh, tell me!"
“Live! Why shouldn’t he?—nothing
but a hole to close up—nature’ll do
that, with a bit of nursing—here, now
don’t you keel over—give me the rest
of that skirt.”
He bandaged the wound, then
glanced about suddenly.
“How’s the other fellow?”
"Dead,” returned Brlstoe, “shot
through the heart.”
“Thought so—have seen Keith shoot
before—I wonder how the cuss ever
managed to get him.”
As he arose to ms feet, his red face
glistening with perspiration, and be-
gan strapping his leather case, the
others rode up, and Brlstoe, explaining
the situation, set the men to making
preparations for pushing on to the
water-hole. Blankets were swung be-
tween ponies, and the bodies of the
dead and wounded deposited therein,
firm hands on the bridles. Hope rode
close beside Keith, struggling to keep
back the tears, as she watched him
lying motionless, unconscious, scarce-
ly breathing. So, under the early glow
of the desert stars, they came to the
water-hole, and halted.
The wounded man opened his eyes,
and looked about him unable to com-
prehend. At first all was dark, silent;
then he saw the stars overhead, and a
breath of air fanned the near-by fire,
the ruddy glow of flame flashing
across his face. He heard voices
faintly, and thus, little by little, con-
sciousness asserted itself and memory
struggled back Into his bewildered
brain. The desert—the lonely leagues
of sand—his fingers gripped as If they
felt the stock of a gun—yet that was
all over—he was not there—but he
was somewhere—and alive, alive. It
hurt him to move, to breathe even,
and after one effort to turn over, he
lay perfectly still, staring up Into the
black arch of sky, endeavoring to
think, to understand—where was he?
How had he come there? Was Haw-
ley alive also? A fdee bent over him,
the features faintly visible In the flash
of firelight. His dull eyes lit up in
sudden recollection.
“Doc! is that you?”
“Sure, old man," the pudgy fingers
feeling his pulse, the gray eyes twink-
ling. “Narrow squeak you had—go-
ing to pull through all right, though —-
no sign of fever.”
“Where am I?”
“At the water-hole; sling you In a
blanket, and get you into Larned to-
morrow.”
There was a moment’s silence,
Keith finding It hard to speak.
“Hawley—?” he whispered at last.
“Oh, don’t worry; you got him all
right. Say,” his voice sobering, “may-
be it was just as well you took that
job. If it had been me I would have
been In bad.”
The wounded man’s eyes questioned.
“It’s a bad mlx-up, Keith. Waite
never told us all of It. I reckon he
didn’t want her to know, and she
never shall, If 1 can help it. I’ve been
looking over some papers in his pock-
et—he’d likely been after them this
trip—and his name ain’t Hawley. He’s
Bartlett Gale, Christie’s father.”
Keith could not seem to grasp the
thought, his eyes half-closed.
“Her—her father?” he questioned,
weakly. “Do you suppose he knew?"
“No; not at first, anyhow; not at
Sheridan. He was too interested in
his scheme to even suspicion he had
actually stumbled onto the real girl.
I think he Just found out.”
A coyote howled somewhere in the
darkness, a melancholy chorus joining
In the with long-drawn cadence. A
shadow swept Into the radius of danc-
ing firelight.
“Is he conscious, Doctor?”
Fairbaln drew back silently, and shs
dropped on her knees at Keith’s sid^
bending low to look into his face.
“Hope—Hope.” .
“Yes, dear, and you are going tA
live now—live for me.”
He found her hand, and held It.
clasped within his own, his eye3 wide
open.
“I have never told you,” he said,
softly, “how much I love you.”
She bent lower , until her cheek
touched his.
“No, Jack, but you may now.”
THE END.
Various Little Arrangements That
Add Greatly in the Enjoyment
of the Partakers.
Spoken by the Card.
When women call they leave their
cards. When men call they are apt
to leave their chips.
No worthy enterprise can be dons
by us without continual plodding and
wearisomeness to our abilities.—MU*
too.
Almost everything in the dessert
menu is either arranged on fiat round
platters or else served individually in
tall stemmed glasses. Jellies, if
placed on round platters, can be gar-
nished fancifully with whipped cream
that has been, run through the pastry
tube to make rosettes. Ice cream can
be moulded and repacked and then
dished up on flat platters and prettily
garnished with whipped cream and
maraschino cherries or tiny bits of
angelica. Even with all this garnish-
ing there is ample room for the hand-
some serving spoon and fork to be
placed on the sides of these platters.
Maids carry these dishes with napkins
over their right hands, the latter being
placed flat underneath. They are
passed to the left of each person to be
served. There is even a graceful way
for a maid to stand. As she stoops a
little to offer her ,dish with her right
hand she places her left hand close to
her side and slightly behind her and
turns her face away from the person
whom she is serving.
Some women prefer serving a des-
sert course in stemmed glasses. If
so, the cook dishes up soft custard
with some sort of a whip on top, or
ice cream to be made more delicious
with a sauce, and sends these glasses
to the pantry. They are placed by
the second maid on dessert plates on
which there are doilies. She then
goes to the sideboard in the dining
room, where she has previously laid
out her fingerbowls on doilies and
plates, takes one in each hand and
proceeds to lay them down in front of
each member of the family. As each
one Ts removing the bowl, doily and
silver the waitress has returned to
the pantry, taken one plate with
stemmed glass in her right hand and
returned to the hostess, where she
takes up the unused (or place) plate
with her left hand and puts down her
dessert. She proceeds to serve all the
members at table with this exchange
of plates.
Kitchennettes.
If you wish to beat an egg very
light, beat the white first to a froth,
then add the yolk and beat.
In thickening gravies or sauce, try
an egg beater to get out the lumps of
thickening. The sauce or gravy will
be as smoot has can be and will not
need to be strained. Another way;
If you are making milk toast or any-
thing similar, put the thickening into
the cold milk and stir constantly
till done. It will be so smooth and
free from lumps that you will feel
well paid for a few moments’ extra
time. It does not take much longer.
To keep the zinc tray of a gas stove
bright and clean, rub with benzine,
then wash with soap and pulverized
pumice. It will look like new. If
spots are stubborn use a little kero-
sene.
Veal Croquettes.
Three level tablespoonfuls butter,
three level tablespoonfuls flour, one
fourth level teaspoonful salt, one-
eighth level teaspoon pepper, three-
fourths cup hot milk, few drops bnion
juice, one egg slightly beaten, two
cups finely chopped cold meat will be
needed for this recipe.
.Melt the butter, add the flour, salt
and pepper, and when blended add
the hot milk gradually. Stir until
thick and smooth. Add the meat, mix
well and add the onion juice, egg and
more salt and pepper If necessary.
When sold, shape into croquettes and
fry in deep fat.
Purely Business Argument for the E*
tablishment of Sanitoriums for
the Tuberculosis,
Time-Saving Suggestion.
When the weekly wash comes up
from the laundry, take the clothes that
need mending and find patches of the
material, yarn to darn with, or what-
ever is necessary to mend with, and
pin the pieces to the article to be
mended, then put them aside in a
drawer or sewing bag until you have
time to sit down quietly and sew. Hav-
ing everything ready, you will be sur-
prised at the amount you can do at
one sitting. By this method the week-
ly mending loses half its terrors for
the busy housekeeper.
Red Currant Cordial.
To two quarts of red currants piit
one quart of whisky; let it stand 24
hours, then bruise and strain through
a flannel bag. To every two quarts of
this liquor add one pound loaf sugar;
add quarter of a pound of ginger, well
bruised and boiled; let the whole
stand to settle; then strain or filter,
bottle and cork; seal the corks tight-
ly. It Is an improvement to have half
red raspberry juice If the flavor Is
liked. The above is ready to use in
one month after made.
Raisin Drops.
These are very nice to serve with
afternoon tea and keep Indefinitely:
Three eggs, one cup butter, one and
one-half cups sugar, four cups flour,
one cup raisins, four teaspoons cinna-
mon. Mix the cinnamon with the flour
and beat into the creamed butter. Beat
sugar with eggs, and then all together,
as little as possible. Drop by tea-
spoonful in rough cakes, a little apart.
Trunk Linings.
Large bags of lavender In the com-
partment of trunks that must stand
for any length of time, sweeten won-
derfully the air that is so apt to grow
musty. If trunk linings are slightly
scented In this way dresses and under-
wear are more daintily fragrant at the
end of the Journey than when one
folds a sachet among the garments
themBelvea.
According to figures contained in th«
annual report of Dr. H. L. Barnes, su-
perintendent of the Rhode Island state
sanitorium, the earnings of the ex-
patients of that institution during the
year 1911 would amount to over $266,-
000. This is a sum three times as
large as that spent each year for main-
tenance of the institution, including
four per cent, interest and deprecia-
tion charges.
The actual earnings In 1911 of 170
ex-patients were obtained by Dr.
Barnes. These ranged from $2 to
$31 per week, the total earnings for
the year amounting to $102,752. On
this basis, Dr. Barnes computes ths
figures above given. He says, how-
ever: “While institutions for the cure
of tuberculosis are good investments,
there is good reason for thinking that
institutions for the isolation of far-
advanced cases would be still better
investments.”
Out of a total of 46,450 hospital days’
treatment given, 39,147, or 84 per
cent., were free, the treatment costing
the state on an average $200 per pa-
tient. Out of the 188 free cases investi-
gated, 56 had no families and no in-
come on admission to the sanitorium.
Out of 132 patients having homes, the
number in the family averaged 5.2, and
the average family earnings were
5.46. In 59 cases the families had no
income, and in only five cases weri
there any savings, none of which
amounted to as much as $100.
To Protect the Flowers.
Edelweiss and other characteristic
Swiss flowers are said to be in dan-
ger of total extinction because of the
craze of tourists for collecting them.
Women tourists especially are always
anxious to take away souvenirs in
the way of a plant, and do not simply
pull the flowers, but dig up the plant.
It Is proposed to introduce a Law that
will prevent the buying, selling or dig-
ging of edelweiss, fire lily, Siberian
spring crocus, Alpine columbine, the
Daphne, Alpine violet or other na
tional flower.
Many a girl strives to make a name
for herself rather than attempt to
make a loaf of bread.
HOW TO TREAT PIMPLES AND
BLACKHEADS
For pimples and blackheads the fol-
lowing is a most effective and eco-
nomical treatment: Gently smear the
affected parts with Cuticura Oint-
ment, on the end of the finger, but
do not rub. Wash off the Cuticura
Ointment in five minutes with Cuti-
cura Soap and hot water and continue
bathing for some minutes. This treat-
ment Is best on rising and retiring.
At other times use Cuticura Soap
freely for the toilet and bath, to as-
sist in preventing inflammation, irri-
tation and clogging of the pores, the
common cause of pimples, blackheads,
redness and roughness, yellow, oily,
mothy and other unwholesome condi-
tions of the skin.
Cuticura Soap and Ointment sold
throughout the world. Sample of each
free, with 32-p. Skin Book. Address
post-card “Cuticura, Dept. L, Boston.'*
The Writer That Does Most.
That writer does the most who
gives his reader the most knowledge
and takes from him the least time.—
C. C. Colton.
Fit Punishment.
The Wicked Soul was sitting on a
hot stove, drinking molten lava and
fanning himself with a chunk of red
hot sheet iron.
“And who is the poor wretch?”
asked Dante.
“That,” replied Satan, “Is the first
man who said, ‘1s It hot enough for
you?’ ”—Milwaukee Sentinel.
Be Well!
The First Step Towards
Good Health Is a
Strong Stomach
Is Your Appetite Poor
Is Your Digestion Weak
Is Your Liver Sluggish
These
are Nature’s warnings of
stomach weakness and im-
pending sickness. You should
try
HOSTETTER’S
STOMACH BITTERS
AT ONCE.
IT WILL HELP YOU
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Morton, George M. The Cumby Rustler. (Cumby, Tex.), Vol. 21, No. 17, Ed. 1 Friday, July 26, 1912, newspaper, July 26, 1912; Cumby, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth770539/m1/3/?rotate=90: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Hopkins County Genealogical Society.