The Smithville Times Enterprise and Transcript (Smithville, Tex.), Vol. 49, No. 33, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 13, 1942 Page: 3 of 8
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THE SMITHVILLE TIMES, THURSDAY, AUGUST 13,1942
11
11 *
RedRange
By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM
. © tUGlNfc CUNNINGHAM
W.N.U. R.tLEASE_
THE STORY SO FAR: Much as ha
gdisllkes the Idea, Con Cameron, a cow-
boy with no dedre to kill anybody, la
forced to torn outlaw to eave hie life.
Became ha waa aeen with the Ranlen,
who are wanted for robbery and murder,
ha la impeeted of bains Comaneha Linn,
one of their sans. Arrested whan ha
rldea Into Tlvan, he la In danser of belns
hansed. In aplte of the fact that ha had
saved the life of the marshal, Nevll
Lowe, only a few daxe before. Lowe
seems to have forgotten that, so Con
••capes from Jail with an outlaw named
Jeff Allraoa and goes with him to Join
a gang headed by Dud Paramore. Con
la forced to kill one of Paramore’s men,
Oonsalea, In salt defense. Shortly after
that, Lowe and a posse surprise them
and kill some of the Paramore crowd.
Dud swears vengeance. They all go to
Lowe’s ranch whllo he Is out. Con dis-
covers that Dud plans to kidnap Lowe’s
sister, Janet. He helps her to escape,
but has to ride for his own life when Jeff
Allmon warns him that Dud will kill him
when ho Sods out that Janet Is gone.
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER IX
Con rode at the easy lope back to
the cottonwoods. Catfish went very
willingly. The moment he was out
of sight, Con ventured to start the
horses back on the trail over which
they had been driven.
If there was pursuit, it missed him
that day. He slept on a hill that
night, ate breakfast the next day
near four of the afternoon, at a
Mexican house forty miles from the
NL. His Spanish helped; and he
took a great deal of pains to make
himself simpatico with the women
and children encountered.
Ragged, unshaven, he felt safe in
riding into Gurney and having a
few drinks at the Palace. There
were enough rough customers in
the county seat to cover him. Talk
at the bar and around the gaming
tables informed him that, since their
failure at the NL, the Paramores
had been very quiet.
When he rode away from Gurney,
he was barbered, wearing new shirt
and overalls, well-fed. Los Alamos
bunkhouse held him for nearly a
week. Lit Taylor was selling some
LA horses and Con rode in place of
an injured peeler. He could have
had a job, but even as “Twenty
Johnson” he felt nervous. Lit paid
him off with faint grin, if grave
voice.
Nearing Tivan Con went more
cautiously, watching from the high
lines like any lobo wolf, keeping out
of sight when a rider showed. So he
came back to the Lobos and to San
Marcos. It seemed at least a year
since he had last been here.
Only the drowsing population of
the plazita was there, so he rode
boldly up to the store-saloon of old
Garcia and left Pancho behind the
big adobe. Garcia greeted him like
an old friend and set out the drinks.
When they stood somewhat to them-
selves, he leaned confidentially.
“You have sufficient Spanish, now,
to understand me 7 Bueno I Then 1
will talk with plainness. I am a
friend to—him. So are others here.
We cannot be enemies and live! But
I tell you, Con, the good men here
are like me: we do not like his try-
ing to take that pretty sister of
Nevil Lowe! That was bad and it
was also foolish. Now, ranchers
who live in lonely places, they are
looking at their wives, their daugh-
ters, their sisters, thinking that they
are not safe. So he has hands turned
against him which before would help
—at least, not hurt. It may be that
he has shortened his life by that
business which you stopped like the
good man you are.”
Con thanked him. There was more
in what the cantinero implied than
appeared in the words he had used.
When presently he drifted outside,
„ he was thinking of that. So when a
woman’s shrill cry of warning sound-
ed, he stopped short, not under-
standing instantly. Then a Winches-
ter’s flat, metallic report down the
line of houses was followed instantly
by the rap of a slug into the wall
behind him.
There was a doorway just ahead
and he plunged into it and flattened
himself out of sight. The shot had
come from a pile of mesquite roots
thirty or forty yards ahead. It was
Amelia, with whom he had danced
at the baile, who had screamed a
warning. She was in a window op-
posite him, calling to him to go
inside, calling to someone named
Margarita to open the door. The
Winchester was drumming steadily.
Bullets chipped the edges of the
thick adobe embrasure and dust
powdered Con’s shirt. Then the
• door opened behind him. A woman
was there, fat, middle-aged, calm.
“Past” she invited Con. “I think
from one of my windows you can
safely kill him.”
He nodded and followed her
through two rooms of her house un-
til she indicated a window. Now he
could see a patch of blue shirt be-
hind the great heap of mesquite.
Grimly, Con aimed his pistol and
let the hammer drop, thumbed it
back and fired a second shot. A tall
cowboy jumped to his feet and
shrank back into shelter. Con wished
fervently for the carbine that hung
on his saddle—wished for it even
more strongly when from a new
position his attacker opened fire on
the window.
He stepped back and the woman
called to him. When he turned, she
stood beside a grinning, wide-eyed
boy of ten or eleven, holding out the
Wi ichester from his scabbard.
“I am glad that you thought to tell me.”
“He thought you would wish it,”
the boy said. "He told me to bring
it to you. Now, you can kill him.
It is that one of yellow hair and blue
eyes called Saint. Kill him, El
Comanche!”
Con reholstered his Colt when he
had reloaded swiftly the empty
chambers. With the carbine he
went outside through a back door
and to the corner of the house. He
sent a half-dozen shots into the mes-
quite roots and stopped Saint’s fire.
Then he ran to another position
where he could see a little of the
blue shirt. He drove Saint around
the root-pile, dodged back himself
when the tall cowboy loosed a des-
perate burst of shots, then caught
Saint when he was running for cov-
er of a house. He saw dust puff
from the blue shirt and Saint stag-
gered, but caught himself and
jumped around a corner.
“He will carry my brand,” he
told Garcia as he bought the town’s
drinks and traded rough jokes with
the men. “I see that when you of
San Marcos say that you are my
friends, it is more than words. I
would have been killed without
knowing whose lead struck me, I
think, but Amelia called. Then Mar-
garita let me into her house and
the boy came with my iong gun. I
thank you all.’’
“Those words did not come from
the mouth only,” Garcia said ear-
nestly. “They came from here,
also!”
He pounded his thick chest and
others of the men uodded. Con went
to find Amelia and Margarita carry-
ing bottles of the most crimson per-
fume on Garcia’s shelves. He was
in Amelia’s house, surrounded by
her small brothers and sisters, when
that woodcutter who had warned
him against Gonzales appeared at
the door. His dark face was ex-
cited. He motioned to Con.
“El Comanche! You remember
me—Antonio Salazar? I have that
to tell you which will not wait; which
is for you only.”
“Of course!” Con cried. “I owe
you for that other time, when you
kept me from walking out upon
Gonzales’ pistol!”
He went through the children and
trailed the woodcutter to the corral
behind Amelia’s.
“I was not here when you drove
Saint from San Marcos,” Antonio
said quickly. “I did not know that
you were here. But he met me on
the road today and I had a bottle of
tequila. He took it from me and
when he had drunk the most of it,
he talked. He boasts always, but
more when he has been drinking. He
came to San Marcos for cartridges,
El Comanche. And for why? For
robbery of the bank at Tivan, to-
morrow night! He did not 6ay to-
morrow night, but 1 am sure.”
He had gathered from Saint’s
bragging talk that the Paramores
were already on the move. He was
to join them outside of Tivan with
the shells. They were taking ad-
vantage of Nevil Lowe’s absence
from town to make Dud’s biggest
blow to date.
“It seemed to me that you would
wish to know,” Antonio jogged him,
when he was quiet for a long time,
thinking. “I know that it is war be-
tween you and them, now.”
“I am glad that you thought to
tell me. Say nothing to anyone, as
you thought, there is war between
me and Dud Paramore. So I have
interest in anything he plans. Here!
Buy drinks for yourself, some-
thing for the woman and the chil-
dren. I am riding!”
As he rode across the hills, he
considered what lay ahead of him.
It seemed to him that he could do
no more than ruin Dud’s raid, but
he could do that effectively and with
safety.
He was early on tRe road next
day, but that was only habit. The
whole day and part of the night lay
before him, tor covering an easy
ride. Con did not intend to show him-
self in Tivan while there was light
or movement; Bain or Chunky or
some townsman of sharp eyes and
long memory might see him.
At dark he was within three miles
of town. There was a moon, and
with its rising he finished his cold
supper and mounted, to look grimly
at the hang of his pistol and the set
of his carbine. He jogged along
the road until almost at the edge of
Tivan, then turned quietly oft to
come to the rear of the buildings
that lined the main street. When op-
posite the bank, he swung down and
hitched Pancho behind a saloon.
He moved up the side of the build-
ing, along the yard-wide space be-
tween it and the store adjoining,
to squat in the gloom with Winches-
ter across his knees. It was still
early, something after ten.
As the minutes dragged toward
midnight and the passers-by were
fewer, he watched the bank impa-
tiently. He had no plan, except to
startle the gang with his fire, stop
the robbery attempt, bring the town
swarming out and force the Para-
mores to run.
“Then I’ll $end word to dear old
Dud,” he thought, grinning tightly.
“Let him know who put the cockle
burr under his saddle; and how
Saint talked too much and let out
the scheme.”
Past midnight, when only a few
lights were shining on the street
and the saloon he watched beside
was quiet, a shadowy figure ap-
peared at the corner of the bank,
Con stood, carbine ready, watching
strainedly. Another vague shape
joined the first. Hardly visible, they
seemed to wait as he was waiting.
One by one, the lights of Tivan were
blinking out.
Then a dull explosion sounded. Con
swore softly, shortly. They had
moved faster than he had expected,
at the bank. He shoved the carbine
out and fired three shots at ths lurk-
ing mdk and they disappeared.
From tHe saloon came yells.
Con ran straight across the street
as men appeared in the doors of the
town’s buildings. From that corner
where the men had stood, he could
see in the moonlight a flurry of fig-
ures at the rear of the bank. They
were busy with horses. He won-
dered if they had got the money
from the vault, or if his shooting had
startled them before they had fin-
ished.
Between bank and horses a tall
man appeared, running. Con placed
him as Dandy. He was carrying
a sack and Con began to fire at his
legs; saw him pitch forward and
drop the sack. The high, singsong
voice of Dud lifted shrilly:
"Hightail! They’re onto us! High-
tail!”
He appeared out of the milling
group, mounted. Con leaned against
the bank wall and fired at him
steadily. The horse went down and
took Dud out of sight. Now, from
right and left of the harried rob-
bers, Tivan men opened ragged fire.
From the difference of reports, Con
guessed that snatched-up guns of
all kinds were being brought into
play.
Three riders whirled clear of the
confusion and fairly hurled their
horses forward. Low over the horns,
they disappeared at the racing gal-
lop. One horse was down, another
began to trot off, riderless. A man
lifted himself from the ground on
one knee and, as firing continued,
dropped again.
“I think,” Con told himself, “that
this is where I roll!”
He edged into the gloom under a
wooden awning and kept close to
the front wall as he worked toward
a corner. Down the side wall of a
store; to the rear where he could
look toward Pancho; then quickly
across the litter of bottles and cans
and trash to the dozing sorrel, he
moved with an amused grin lifting
mouth-corners. Dud had got away,
he was fairly certain.
Out of the darkness of seme door-
way or passage opposite Pancho, a
man stepped suddenly. He was with-
in a yard of Con when he said,
“Well—” and automatically Con,
seeing the carbine he carried, piv-
oted and struck him in the face,
The long swing carried all his
weight and the fist connected square-
ly. Back into the shadows the man
fell with no more than a short grunt.
He sprawled there and Con, after
a split-second of staring, ran across
to Pancho and mounted.
He rode at the walk to a safe dis-
tance, then skirted Tivan at the
trot and came at the lope to pick up
the trail of the three survivors of
Dud's raid. He made no effort to
actually trail them. But the general
direction they would take was easy
to decide, with the Lobos rising to
the northeast.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Cut Your Fuel Wood
During Slack Periods
Release Transportation,
Improve Forests That Way
By J. E. DAVIS
(Extension Forester, University oi Illinois
College of Agriculture.)
Woodland owners can release
transportation for war purposes by
burning their own wood and supply-
ing wood for similar use in towns
and cities.
Fuel-wood cutting according to a
definite plan to correct poor forest
conditions resulting from mistakes
of the past is suggested.
Fuel wood can be obtained
from misshapen trees, dead and
insect-ridden trees, other cull
trees, from tops of trees cut for
saw logs and from suppressed
or unthrifty trees cut in thin-
ning or woodland improvement
operations.
Trees qpitable for lumber, veneer
logs, box bolts or other special prod-
ucts should not be taken for fuel.
Large quantities of oak are needed
for ships, hickory and ash for han-
dles and lumber and pulpwood for
other war industries.
These products can be obtained
only from well-formed trees, and
cutting them for fuel is a waste of
valuable resources.
During Slack Periods.
Fuel wood can be harvested dur-
ing slack periods on the farm, but
some time must be allowed for sea-
soning. Cutting should also be
planned to promote a better stand
of thrifty growing timber by remov-
ing “wolf” and “weed” trees.
For seasoning, the wood should be
stacked, not heaped, on bed pieces
over dry ground, and preferably in
an open yard to get greatest air cir-
culation. Fuel wood burns more ef-
ficiently and yields much more heat
when it has dried at least six
months.
TIRE SITUATION
NOT WORRYING
BUFFOON SCHACHT
Clown Prince to Tour
Regardless; Appears in
Houston Monday Night
Al Schacht, baseball's great ns
tional comedian, will appear a
Buffalo Stadium in Houston on ths
j night of Monday, August 17, before
and during the game between Rog-
Labor-Saving Device
Farmers will have to work
more hours to reach their 1942
production goals unless they adopt
electricity as a labor-saving de-
vice, just as tractors are being
used to speed up field work.
It has already been demon-
strated that much labor can be
saved at a lit-
tle expense in
the use of elec-
tricity for
lights, for put-
ting water un-
der pressure,
for processing
and handling
feeds, for electric fencing and for
operating milking machines and
brooding pigs and chicks.
Electricity will play an impor-
tant part in making the develop-
ment of rural industries possible.
On farms where secondary agri-
cultural production is not prac-
ticed, the extra time resulting
from the present system of mech-
anized farming may be used to
advantage in the shop operat-
ing a wood lathe or other wood-
working equipment, or on an elec-
tric welder making some part or
a complete item of commercial
value.
ers Hornsby’s Fort Worth Cats and
the Houston Buffs. The ladies will
get a real break as this will be a
ladies’ night game with special
reduced prices prevailing.
“Keep ’Em Laughing.”
That’s the slogan Al Schacht, the
“Clown Prince of Baseball,” has
selected for his sixth annual tour of
the nation’s ball parks.
“And how can I do that,” inquires
the inquiring Mr. Schacht, “if I
worry about tires?”
Buffoon Schacht, who was a fair
country pitcher in his day, although
there are few witnesses to the fact
who are willing to endanger their
good standing by admitting it,
started his tour in Jersey City’s
Roosevelt Stadium on April 16. He
won’t stop again until after the
World Series in October, the gods
of war permitting.
Al, who before going into clown-
ing for a living was third-base
coach for the Washington Senators
and until 1937 with the Boston Red
Sox, has solved his problems with-
out too much straining on the leash
of his brain—sometimes called a
“Smattering of Ignorance.”
“I’ll start in my car,” he says,
“and if my tires run out, I’ll go by
trains. And if they stop running,
I’ll go by bus, and if that’s no good
I’ll sprout wings and fly. But I’ll
get there.”
While he jokes about his travels,
those who know the diamond mad
hatter well realise that he is most
sincere in his efforts to add a bit of
liumor to Americans war effort. He
has gone so far as to offer his serv-
ices gratia and at his own expense
to any Army camp within reason-
able traveling distance on his off
days this season.
Philosophically—and despite his
comic antics on the field—Mr.
Schacht is quite the philosopher on
life. He adds:
“Maybe I’m kidding myself, but
I’ve been traveling thousands of
miles and everywhere I go, people
look at me and laugh. I’m either
funny or ridiculous, and what’s the
difference—as long as they laugh."
Vegetable Insect Control
Is Not a Difficult Task
Follow a few simple rules and con-
trol of vegetable insects is not dif-
ficult.
A duster may be obtained for a
dollar up, but one may be made at
home with a tin can, a stick and n
piece of cheese cloth. Ask the coun-
ty extension agents how it’s done.
Next, have ready a supply of in-
secticides for use at the first sign of
insect injury. These are cryolite
for control of bean beetles, cucum-
ber beetles, cabbage worms and oth-
er insects which feed upon the fruit
and foliage of the plants; rotenone
and sulphur to control tomato fruit
worm, flea beetles, plant lice and
leaf hoppers; and concentrated py-
rethrum dust for squash bugs, stink
bugs, and harlequin cabbage bugs.
Watch the garden for the first sign
of injury and dust both sides of
leaves.
Apply poison bait late in the after-
noon for control of cut worms,
grasshoppers and adult wingless
May beetle, or June bug. Poison
bait also will control mole crickets
which frequent sandy soils.
A bait made of cryolite, finely
chopped carrots or turnips and wheat
bran will control the adult weeviL
Agricultural Notes
Adequate curing of the hay crop
reduces the danger of a barn fire.
• • •
Government purchases now take
four-tenths of all pork and seven-
tenths of all lard produced in fed-
erally inspected packing plants.
• • •
Last year’s shoe production fig-
ures smashed all past records, and
came within 7,000,000 pairs of the
500,000,000-mark, with an even great-
er output scheduled for 1942.
Lad Wakes, Nabs Pistol
Pointed in Fun and Dies
CHICAGO.—Elmer Swanson, 18,
awoke with a start when his Sun-
day afternoon nap was interrupted
by the pressure of an object against
his head.
The object was a pistol. Not fully
awake, he seized the gun without
noticing it was in the hand of his
best friend, Ned Benigno, 16. It
discharged and wounded Swanson
fatally.
Ned sobbed as he told the story.
He first said the gun had discharged
lying on the bed. Then he admitted
he had lied because he “couldn't
confess that I had killed my chum."
“Elmer and I had a date with
two girls, but I had no money,” Ned
said. “I took a pistol that my broth-
er, Vito, had left when he went to
California. I intended to pawn it.
“I went to Elmer's home and he
was asleep. I went up and lay be-
side him. He didn’t wake up. Then
I playfully put the pistol against his
head. He suddenly woke up and
grabbed it. I yelled at him, but
the gun went off.”
Lightning Hits Same
Man Twice in Michigan
OVVOSSO, MICH.—Lightning struck
in different places, all right, but hit
the same man twice.
Robert Hudson. Bennington, Mich.,
contractor, was knocked unconscious
when a bolt struck near him as he
sujiervised a job at the Michigan
Sugar company. His only ill effect
was a headache.
Later he was knocked down by
another bolt while working on hos-
pital construction. He suffered a
minor eye injury.
/"\UR good neighbors south of the
border provide these pictur-
esque tea towel motifs. So get out
your most brilliant floss and do
these bits of embroidery. Fin-
ished, they will give a cheerful
$50 Touch* Good News
For Father of Airman
PUEBLO, COLO. — Anticipating
bad news when he was called from
a theater to receive e ceblegram
from his son, a flier in the Royal
Canadian air force on duty in Eng-
land, a Pueblo man gave a sigh of
relief when he read:
“Dear Pop: Wire me fifty bucks,
care of my hotel, London. Enjoy-
ing my leave,”
note to your towel rack and thus
to your entire kitchen.
Pancho’s serapes and Ramona’s
skirts, the fruits, and the awning
should all be done in vivid colors.
To complete the set, there is a
panholder motif of bright-colored
Mexican pottery.
• • •
Transfer Z9475, IS cents, bring) the
seven motifs for tea towels and the one
for matching panholder In transfers which
may be stamped more than once. Tbeee
extra stampings may bo used for luncheon
or breakfast cloths and napkins, curtains,
etc. Send your order to:
AUNT MARTHA
Box IM-W Kansas City, Me.
Enclose IS cents for each pattern
desired. Pattern No..............
Name.................................
Address..............................
CLASSIFIED
DEPARTMENT
Musical Instruments Wanted
Wented: Musical Instruments of all kinds,
regardless of condition. Highest cash
prices paid. Cash waiting. Write today.
Zlfferhlatt. 55 Ceeyer St., New York, N. T.
From an old French word
“mes” derived from the Latin
word “missus” meaning a course
at a meal, comes the Army’s
name “mess” for its breakfast,
dinner, and supper. Favorite meal
with the soldier is chicken dinner
—his favorite cigarette, Camel.
(Baaed on actual sales records
from Post Exchanges.) A carton
of Camels, by the way, is the gift;
ha praters first of all from the
folks back borne. Ha’s said to.;
Local tobacco dealers are featur-
ing Camel cartons to send any-
where to men In the armed forc«a>
—Adv,
RHEUMATIC PAM
•ET
AFTER..................
With a Msflsiss tfest srtN Pram Itself
It you suffer from rheumatic
today. Use only as directed. Pars
chase price refunded if not satisfied.
HOUSEWIVES: ★ ★ ★
Your Watte Kitchen Fate
Are Needed for Explotivee
TURN ’EM INI ★ ★ ★
f PROTECT YOUR EYES 1
rpRO-sor
S^TIREDMHFIAMED
Glass Beets Aid Circulation
In the Cincinnati General hospital
you may see a patient here and
there lying in bed and wearing enor-
mous glass boots. Their function is
much the same as that of the “iron
lung” and helps to restore circula-
tion.
Color Change ef Egg Yelks
Egg yolks with richer shades of
yellow are due to increasing the
amount of yellow corn end green
feed eaten by the chickens. Too
much green feed tends to give the
yolk s brown or green "off tint.”
Bird Songs Caught
Albert R. Brand, assistant in or-
hithology at the American Museum
of Natural History in New York,
has completed what is said to be the
first sound film ever made of the
songs of wild American birds.
Halls of Montezuma
U. S. marines, commanded by
Lieut. Col. S. E. Watson, joined Gen-
eral Scott’s forces in Mexico on Au-
gust 6, 1847, and then proceeded to
capture the Halls of Montezuma.
A Long Bridge In Europe
Plans are under way tor building
the longest bridge in Europe—a two-
mile span to connect the Danish is-
land Zealand with the island* of
Lolland and Falster.
WNU— P
SI—41
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The Smithville Times Enterprise and Transcript (Smithville, Tex.), Vol. 49, No. 33, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 13, 1942, newspaper, August 13, 1942; Smithville, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth876596/m1/3/: accessed July 18, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Smithville Public Library.