The Lampasas Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. [47], No. 42, Ed. 1 Friday, August 2, 1935 Page: 3 of 6
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The Nan
From Yonder
(By Harold Titus)
Copywright—WNU Service
SYNOPSIS
Ben Elliott—from “Yonder”—ar-
rives at the little lumbering town of
Tincup accompanied by Don Stuart,
old, very sick man, whom he has be-
friended. He signalizes his coming
by defeating Bull Duval, “king of the
river,” and town bully, in a log-birling
contest. Nicholas Brandon the town’s
leading citizen, resents Stuart’s pres-
ence. He tries to force him to leave
town and Elliott, resenting the act,
knocks him down. Elliott is arrested.
CHAPTER II—Continued
--4-
“Oh . . . That! I don’t know. I
didn’t ask; I forgot it. I wasn’t in-
terested in your fine. We can take
care of that. I was interested in find-
ing out about you . . . what kind of
a nut-cracker you are.”
The young gray eyes were study-
ing the old blue ones closely, now.
“I found out,” Able continued. “He
says you’re no good.” In the pause
the justice checkled softly. “He says
you’re absolutely no good to yourself
or anybody else. He tells me that you
know more about logging and saw-
mills than any man your age has a
right to know and he’s seen a lot of
men. He says you can make the
worst crew that ever infested a shan-
ty eat out of your'hand. He says
■; you don’t know, what it is to be tired
% or afraid. . . . And then he says again
you’re no use on earth, so far as he
can tell!”
Elliott was grinning a bit foolish-
ly now and rubbed his chin.
Able went on:
“He told me that before the war—
your war, not ours—they’d figured
you as one of the prize young men
in their organization but that since
you’ve come home there’s nothing
you’ll do. You can do anything, he
■says, but you won’t. I asked him
|why and he said he guessed it was
^because everything they had to offer
|you was too simple, which I trans-
lated to mean that they haven’t a
* gpod, tough hickory nut to offer you.”
. The other’s rather embarrassed
'smile faded.
i4Was he . . . mad?” he asked.
“Was he really sore at me?”
If “Mad like anybody else would be,
fl take it, if they saw a young man
■ i they thought a lot of wasting his
j time.” i ^9118!
“I’m sorry! I think a lot of Mr.
Bridger. He certainly has been white
with me. I’ve tried, Judge, Honest,
I’ve tried to give ’em all I had but
. . . But he’s right. The war upset
me, like a lot of others. I haven’t
got my feet on the ground yet. Af-
ter the big show everything else
seems too d—d easy!”
“Likely. You haven’t tried my job
yet,” Able said gravely.
“Being a justice in Tincup?”
“No. Not that. My real job—my
real, tough nut—is being adminis-
trator for an estate. The McManus
estate, which is nothing more than
as pretty a piece of hardwood as ever
stood outdoors. The Hoot Owl stuff,
we call it. Trying to operate it to a
profit and hang on as administrator
so some other man won’t step in and
give that stuff away is my particular
hard nut. And it’s a chore, Elliott.”
He eyed the younger man a brief
interval and caught his breath quick-
ly.
“I like the way you looked at Nick
Brandon in court this afternoon. No
oung man has looked at him that
ay since I can remember. That’s
why I telephoned Bridger: because I
liked the way you looked at Brandon
and because I’m about worn out try-
ing to crack a hard nut. That’s why
I’m here.
“Maybe, from what Bridger told
e, and from what I’ve seen of you,
you might maybe, perhaps, like to
ake a crack at this nut. . . .”
After a moment he repeated:
“You might, possibly. The fact is,
’m through, Elliott. I’ve given the
'ob all I had. I’m at my wit’s end
nd the estate’s at its rope’s end.
"e’re licked, as we stand now, and
he truth is that maybe, perhaps, pos-
ibly I might do a right fair job of
egging you to come and help me!”
Elliott did not speak but watched
ble as he fumbled in his pocket
’or a sketch map. Able paused for a
oment, and then continued:
“Come over by the window. Now,
ere’s the lay-out,”—spreading the
ap on the sill. “Here’s the railroad,
ain line. This is Hoot Owl siding
ith our mill. Twenty men, there,
<3>me living in shanties and the board-
ing house taking care of the rest. It’s
long, narrow strip, you see; sev-
Ity-six forties uncut. Four miles of
gish to north of the mill. Our rail-
goes up through the chopping,
We’ve an old coffee-pot of twen-
ton rod engine and freight cars,
^more or less ready for junk,
fe’s the camp now and we’re cut-
on the second forty north. Got
jly-odd hands there that pass for
men.
“Harrington was handling it for
me. Man named Buller’s millright
and a fellow named Ruppert’s boss
at camp. Harrington’s gone—driven
out—and we’re in the soup!”
He paused and looked at Elliott,
whose keen eyes were studying the
detail of the map.
“It’s a haywire outfit. The loco-
motive broke down yesterday and un-
less the boys get her working, the
mill will be out of logs in a week.
The mill itself is a grand old ruin
but saws, after a fashion. The lum-
ber in the yards is mortgaged up to
the last cull piece, there’s not enough
in the bank to meet interest and pay-
roll and there’s no boss on the job.”
Elliott looked at the old man.
“You said it was as pretty a piece
of hai’dwood as ever stood outdoors.
If so, why’s it in this jam?”
Able Armitage lifted a hand in ges-
ture and whispered sharply one word:
“Brandon!”
Ben put down the map, replaced
the pipe stem between his teeth and
shoved his hands deep into pockets.
“Brandon, eh?” He nodded. “Cheqks
out on the stories I’d heard. ... So
Brandon’s put you on the toboggan!
Why?”
Able shrugged. “Probably because
it’s kept itself out of his hands for
so long. And, besides, there are oth-
, jr reasons.
“Six years ago I was made admin-
istrator of this estate and to keep
the carrying charges from eating it
up, I started to operate. There wasn’t
a chance to sell the stumpage to
anybody but Brandon. Nobody’s go-
ing to put their money into a devil-
ridden county like this! There are
too many stories going round of
what’s happened to others who have
tried to work alongside Nick. We had
to cut and mill or sell the stumpage
to Brandon at his own price. May-
ae, if it had been mine, I’d have sold;
but the owner of this timber is an
arphan girl and ... a man doesn’t
like to quit under those circumstan-
ces.
“But every man I’ve put on to run
the thing has been beaten, and I’ve
had some good ones there. They
can’t get decent crews in the first
place. Buller, the millwright, Thom-
as, the camp cook, and a craby Irish-
man named Bird-Eye Blaine, who’s
barn boss, are the only three men
you can count on. Brandon spies the
good men who come along and if
they don’t work for him he sees to
it that his Bull Duval drives ’em out
of the country. And this matter of
labor is only one item that he makes
hard to supply. •
“Until now he hasn’t been able to
touch me. I’ve managed to hold out
against him politically. But he’s
watching and the probate court is
catching and unless I show some prog-
ress by the first of the year I’m go-
ing to be booted out as administra-
tor. With another administrator in
control he’ll buy this timber for a
song, a girl will be robbed and the
shame of this community will be
complete!”
“And what makes you think,” El-
liott asked, “that I’ve got a chance
to put it over when other men have
failed?”
Able did not hesitate:
“Because you have youth and a
liking for tough nuts!” He did not
smile; his eyes snapped and his. voice
rose.
“Son”—putting a hand on his shoul-
der—“I’d take Bridger’s word on men
quicker than I’d take the word of
any man I know. He says you can
do it if you will. I’m asking you; now,
as an old man with his back to the
wall, will you help me on this?”
Ben Elliott did not reply at once.
He was staring at the floor as one
will when debating with himself and
preparing for argument with anoth-
er. He twisted his head gravely and
•smiled. Then he looked into Abie’s
face.
“When do we start?” he asked.
The justice swallowed.
“You ready now? Without know-
ing any more about it?”
“I know enough. It’s good timber
and it’s Brandon who’s messing up
the detail. . . . Let’s go, Judge!”
It was just before whistle time
next moiming at the Hoot Owl mill.
“Who’s th’ young feller with
Able?” the timberman asked the filer.
“New boss.”
“Him?” The trimmerman spat and
leaned further forward for a better
look at Ben Elliott as he stood talk-
ing to the sawyer in the gloom of
early day. “Say .•. . Ain’t he the lad
that ducked th’ Bull? ’Nd took a
poke at Brandon?”
“Th’ same.”
“Well, I’ll be d—d! Only a kid.
He may be a good hand on a birlin’
log but won’t Nick Brandon find him
sweet pickin’! He likes ’em young,
Nick does . . . and ’specially after
this one took such pains to make
himself unpopular with Mister Nick!”
“Yup. He’ll be duck soup for Bran-
don all right!”
The hand of the millwright’s watch
approached the hour. The sawyer
pulled the signal cord. The big shaft
commenced to turn and from machine
to machine went Buller while Able
and Ben watched, examining belting,
grease eups, seeifig that livd Rollers
ran steadily and true. The pulleys
turned slowly for a full five minutes
and then as the cracked whistle atop
the boiler house cackled its message
that another working day had begun,
the carriage swept forward and saw
snarled its way into a good maple
log. h > : *j
Elliott stirred on his feet. It was
the way a mill should start, anyhow.
But after that beginning the pro-
cedure was not so good. The sawyer
was not quick in making decisions.
Twice in a half dozen logs his slabs
were thick to the point of waste; he
did not turn one particularly good
piece as soon as he should to grade
his lumber to the highest point.
The setter, too, was mediocre. The
deck man loafed and let the bull
chain fill up and stop even when his
deck was half empty.
The mill crew was not happy. They
appeared to be men working for a
cause they felt was lost.
Ben went with Buller, then, from
man to man and watched each do
his woi’k.
In the yard they passed logs rolled
to one side.
“Much veneer stuff good as that?”
Ben asked, eyeing them.
“Not much coming in now, but
there’s a lot of it standing,” Buller
answered. “Buyer in here ten days
ago looking up bird’s-eye maple and
veneer birch. Harrington was saving
it as it came in; some of it. He had
too many thingsi to think about, Har-
rington did. The buyer’s due back
any day, though. Market’s up, I
guess. He’ll probably pay a fancy
figure for what we have to offer
him.”
Then he went to the particular
problem confronting them. With the
locomotive laid up the steady supply
of logs from camp to mill would be
cut off. Snow was falling lightly,
now, but sleighing might be days dis-
tant. To log the mill by trucks was
impractical, he declared, and unless
the railroad equipment could be put
in working condition they might be
forced.to shut dpwn. Fortunately a
reserve log supply of a sort was on
hand, decked high beside the pond.
“We’ll have to break out this one
deck now,” Buller said.
He whistled and waved to the pond
man. Picking up a peavey he led
the way toward that high bank of
maple, beech and birch logs. Ben
followed, watching the foreman as he
surveyed the face of the deck and
shook his head dubiously.
“Try the big birch first,” Buller
said to the pond man.
They engaged the hooks of their
peaveys; they heaved. The log rolled
away easily and lumbered down the
incline to the water. Another . . . and
still another, each coming away sep-
arately and starting no movement
of others above them. -
Buller spat. “That d—n beech
butt’s in tight,” he said, tapping the
log with his peavey pick. “Try her,
Jim; now be careful. When she
comes, the whole deck’ll move in a
hurry.”
They heaved to no result. With a
sharp “Now!” they heaved again, but
the beech, nestling in the face of the
deck at the height of a man’s hip,
refused to budge.
“Hold on! Give you a hand.” Ben
picked up a peavey and approached.
“Here, take this end, Elliott,” the
foreman said, moving in toward the
center which was under the tower-
ing facade of the deck.
“No, go on back. I’ll do the risk-
taking for this lay-out for a while.”
Buller made no reply but grinned.
The pond man looked at Ben approv-
ingly and spat on his hands. Peavey
hooks bit the log’s ends again; a
peavey point, with all Ben Elliott’s
strength bearing on it, pried beneath
the center of the reluctant beech. . . .
“Now. . . . Together!”
He lifted his weight from the
ground. His peavey handle bent.
“Look out!” Buller’s voice was
shrill on the warning as movement
sent Ben Elliott swinging to the
right. The key stick popped out, all
but upon Ben. The logs above settled
with a heavy mutter and then with
that thunderous, ringing, booming
sound of hardwood in motion, they
rolled upon him.
Elliott had dropped his peavey,
leaped nimbly over the beech as it
struck the ground and bounced on its
way to the water. He hopped to the
first log and spurned it with his one
foot, landed on the following with
both, hesitated a split' instant, and
stepped to yet another. Arms spread,
balancing carefully, watching those
logs as a boxer watches his oppon-
ent’s blows, he went up that zooming,
booming 'avalanche as it came down.
He danced to the left as the end of
one stick swung out to clout him to
a pulp. He ran rapidly over three
that lumbered down beneath him and
paused.
Two came riding together, one
atop the other, a moving barrier as
high as his waist. Buller opened his
lips in a cry of warning but thrust-
ing out one hand, touching the top-
most of the pair ever so lightly, Ben
vaulted over, landing on another that
rolled and grumbled behind the two.
Crevasses between logs opened and
closed before him. Sticks popped out
of the ti'emendous pressure and rolled
down slantwise, imperiling him. He
did not run rapidly. At times he
seemed to move with painful, with
dangerous deliberation. But he was
watching the logs and his chances and
did not make a move until he was
certain of where he was going.
Slowly the deck settled. Half of
what had been piled logs now bobbed
and swayed and .rolled in the pond.
The rest, reduced from the height
to which it had towered a few sec-
onds before, came to rest. And Ben
Elliott, on its lowered crest, stood
still a moment until certain the move-
ment was ended and then came slow-
ly down, looking not at the men who
gaped at him but at the logs over
which he walked with a critical, ap-
praising eye.
“Atta boy!” an unidentified voice
yelled above the roar of the carriage
exhaust, but if Elliott heard this he
gave no indication.
“Now, if Buller can’t get that
locomotive going by noon,” he said to
the pale and visibly shaken Able,
“We’ll telegraph for a new spider.
No use taking more chances. Come
on, Buller, let’s look at the stuff
you’ve got piled.”
Blinking, the millwright followed
him.
“’Y G—d!” muttered the pond man.
“Slick shod, he went over that face!
Slick shod! ’Y G—d!”
An hour later the mill stood silent
for five minutes while a broken con-
veyor chain was repaired. In that
interval every man oft the job had
heard the story.
“’Y G—d! Slick shod!” the pond
man said again and again. “Cool?
Like a watermelon on ice!”
When they started the head sawyer
was grinning and it seemed as though
the saw stayed in the log more con-
stantly than it had before, as if the
mill functioned with greater smooth-
ness, as if something in the nature
of enthusiasm went into the labor
along with brawn and experience.
Washington, July 29.—The Texas
advisory cotton committee on Mon-
day said three-fourths of the 1935
Texas cotton ci'op is threatened with
a tie-up because of an injunction is-
sued against the Bankhead tax in
Texas.
Ten members of the committee con-
ferred with the bureau of internal
revenue and AAA officials.
Later it was said no solution had
been reached but they issued a state-
ment setting forth their views.
It said:
“We were informed by the bureau
of internal revenue that no addition-
al bale tags, beyond those already
issued, would be furnished Texas gin-
ners.
“Bale tags covering only about 25
per cent of the prospective Texas
crop have been issued.
“This decision by the bui’eau, grow-
ing directly out of the injunction,
means that Texas cotton farmers
face a complete tie-up of their cot-
ton after -the present stock of tags
is exhausted. Cotton may be ginned
after that time but it cannot be
transported, since it would lack bale
tags required.
“As a result of the injunction ob-
tained by the Texas Cotton Ginners’
association, the Texas farmers will
be unable to dispose of most of their
cotton until after the supreme coui’t
has passed on the validity of the
question unless speedy remedial ac-
tion is taken.”
CHAPTER III
Not so in the camp where men and
horses toiled to make decks of logs
by night out of what at dawn had
been standing trees. Nearly half the
crew were Finns, stolid, uncommuni-
cative fellows, good enough workmen
but difficult to speed up.
“Aren’t there any good men left
loose around here?” Ben asked Able
on his first trip to town.
“Old' Tim Jeffers is the only man
who’s stood out against Nick and he’s
the best logger these woods have even
seen but he doesn’t like Brandon, can t
work for him and is so disgusted
that he’s quit the timber and settled
down on a farm. He hasn’t set foot
in a camp for three years and swears
he never will again. Neither will he
be run out of the country.
“That’s part of the hard shell of
this nut, Ben: lack of good men
who’ve got the sand to stick here
and work for anybody but Brandon.”
The next morning—Sunday—Ben
sat over a table in his tiny office
working with paper and pencil when
Bird-Eye Blaine burst in.
“The Bull’s here!” the little Irish-
man exclaimed in a whisper, closing
the door behind him hastily. “Th’
Bull’s here . . . ’nd wearin’ his river
boots!”
“Th’ Bull!” Bii'd-Eye repeated and
swallowed. “He’s come, loike he’s
come to other camps. He’ll have eviry
dommed Finlander ’nd Injun hitting
th’ road to escape him!”
Ben shoved back his chair then
“What’s this?”
' “Ah, it’s Brandon thut’s sint him!
He’s Misther Brandon’s pet bull ’nd
he’ll clane this camp av men loike
he’s done many times before! He’s
wearin’ river boots ’nd swillin’ whis-
ky!”
“Where?” Elliott got to his feet.
“In th’ men’s camp,”—gesticu-
lating with his thumb. “He’s just now
come in ’nd they’re commencin’ to
sift out, th’ dommed yellow bellies!”
(To be Continued)
INJUNCTION SEEN THREAT TO
TEXAS COTTON MARKETING
LASKA GIVEN TEN YEARS
IN KIDNAP CASE
THREE EDITORS NAMED IN
CONTEMPT CASE SILENT
' Houston, July 29.—Three editors of
Houston’s newspapers were silent to-
night regarding a contempt citation
for them and their reporters by Dis-
trict Judge M. S. Munson of Angle-
ton.
They feel that the freedom of the
press, a constitutional right, has been
infringed upon but beyond that they
had no comment.
The editors are George W. Cot-
tingliam of the Chronicle; Max Ja-
cobs, managing editor of the Post,
and Ed Pooley, managing editor of
the Press. Their reporters, who were
sent last week to cover a murder trial
at Angleton ai’e Frank White, Post;
Ed Rider, Chronicle and Harry Mc-
Cormick, Press.
Just as testimony was to start last
week in the murder case of a con-
vict, Clyde Thompson, Judge Mun-
son called the three reporters in and
told them that they could cover the
trial but if any of the testimony was
printed he would hold not only them
but their editors in contempt. They
talked with their editors and all in-
structed them to go ahead with their
assignment “as usual.”
Judge Munson said he based his
order to the reporters on the ground
that publicity given the testimony in
the case of Thompson, known as the
“thrill slayer,” would hinder selection
of juries in two companion cases.
Today the second of the two com-
panion cases was called but at the
outset of court Judge Munson an-
nounced he had decided to cite the
six editors and reporters to appear
in his court Thursday at 10 a. m.
to show cause why they should not
be found guilty of contempt.
OKLAHOMA SLOT MACHINE
ACT MADE INOPERATIVE
THREE BIG PLANES
ON 7500-MILE TRIP
Dallas, July 28.—Three big trans-
port planes, en route from Chicago
to Chile for passenger and mail ser-
vice, arrived in Fort Worth at 4:50
p. m. today, passing up Dallas on
account of a late start from Tulsa,
Okla. Pilots planned to remain in
Fort Worth overnight, flying to
Brownsville tomorrow and starting
across Mexico and Central America
Tuesday.
The 7500-mile flight, undertaker,
for the purpose of delivering the
three ships for sei’vice over the ah
routes of the Linea Aerea Nacional,
was expected to require approxi-
mately two weeks.
Dixie Nell Perkins and Joy Alexan-
der underwent tonsil operations Tues-
day morning in the local hospital.
Oklahoma City, July 29.—The
measure to legalize slot machines due
to become effective at midnight to-
night, was rendered inoperative to-
day by the filing of referendum peti-
tions bearing approximately 40,000
signatures, at the capitol.
Leaders of the drive against slot
machines were somewhat uneasy,
however, because of the absence of
Governor Marland, to whom the pe-
titions were addressed. The governor
had not returned from his Ponca City
home.
Fred Hansen, assistant attorney
general, gave an informal opinion,
however, that absence of the gover-
nor would not invalidate the petitions,
and Rev. Guy C. Tetirick of Tulsa
and other churchmen proceeded to file
them.
“I expect they will be protested,”
Rev. Mr. Tetirick said.
Ten days are allowed for a protest
on sufficiency of the signatures. If
they are found insufficient, the law
will become operative upon comple-
tion of a check. If they are suffi-
cient, the law will be inoperative un-
til voted on by the State.
Governor Marland has said he
would not permit a vote on the ques-
tion at the September 24 election.
Oklahoma City, July 29.—Ben B.
Laska, Denver attorney convicted of
conspiracy in the $200,000 Charles
F. Urschel kidnaping, today was sen-
tenced to 10 years by Federal Judge
Edgar S. Vaught.
Judge Vaught sentenced Laska af-
ter overruling a motion for a new
trial. Attorneys indicated they
would appeal to the U. S. circuit
court at Denver.
As ever, Laska was a dramtic fig-
ure as he heard the judge pronounce
his fate. Tears welled in his eyes
and rolled down his cheeks as he
sobbed audibly and stood, arms out-
stretched, pleading with quivering
lips for the judge to “be reasonable.”
“The court is of the opinion that
the evidence was sufficient to support
the verdict of the jury,” Judge
Vaught had said. “The question of
whether the jury should believe cer-
tain witnesses was a matter for the
jury and not the court.”
Asked if he had anything to say,
;he weeping defendant struck his
arms-outstretched attitude and said:
“Judge, all I can say is—be rea-
sonable. An innocent man is going
to be sentenced. That’s all I can
say. I’m innocent. This is a ter-
rible thing for me after 27 years in
this business. Please, judge, be rea-
sonable.”
Judge Vaught replied: “There are
always a great many embarrassing
functions the court must perform.
One of these is passing sentence. On
the other hand, an offense has been
committed.”
He then pronounced the brief for-
mality of the sentence and Laska re-
tired with his attorneys. He remain-
ed free on a $10,000 bond to remain
in force until determination of the
appeal
Outside the courtroom, confronted
by reporters, Laska went speechless
for the first time in the knowledge
of his acquaintances here, who learn-
ed his volatile, irrepressible person-
ality during the Urschel trial.
“Boys,” he sobbed—“this is the
first time in my life—” and then he
faltered. As he attempted to speak
again, an attorney hushed him.
“The conviction of Laska is one
of the biggest victories the govern-
ment has won in its fight against kid-
napers,” W. C. Lewis, Lfnited States
attorney, who prosecuted Laska, de-
clared after the jury returned its
verdict.
“It will put the fear of the law
into a lot of crooked lawyers.”
FLOOD CAUSES BIG
DAMAGE IN OHIO AREA
Mrs. A. C. Dickson of Temple and
her sister, Mrs. Matthews of Austin,
visited here Tuesday in the home of
Dr. and Mrs. H. R. Gaddy. They
were returning from a vacation trip
of two weeks spent in Colorado
Springs, Colo.
Mr. and Mrs. George Newton of
Cameron are the parents of a daugh-
ter born Tuesday in the local hospital.
Joe Hart underwent an operation
for appendicitis Saturday morning in
a Temple hospital. Reports from him
state that he is doing nicely.
Logan, Ohio, July 29.—Muddy wa-
ters of destruction raged through the
'Hocking Valley today in its worst
flood in 22 years. The continually
rising water already has caused one
death and property damage estimat-
ed at more than $1,000,000.
Lancaster county 300 families
homeless and Logan prepared for an
emergency should the Hocking River
overflow. Washington headquarters
of the Red Cross telegraphed chap-
ters in the flood district to start work
of relief immediately.
Streams, swollen by a terrific rain-
storm yesterday, continued to pour
into the Hocking River, which wash-
ed through lowlands, carrying away
live stock and small buildings.
Families evacuated homes in low
districts.
With the water rising at Lancas-
ter three-quarters of a foot an hour
today, residents in this area feared
a flood even worse than in 1913, the
most severe in history.
At Rock Bridge, seven miles north,
water flowed into houses and the. river
stage already was up to the 1913
peak.
Lancaster was hit first by the flood.
A wall of water five feet high des-
cended on the city a few hours after
2V2 inches of rain fell throughout
South-Central Ohio. Streams already
were swollen from 10 days of inter-
mitten hard rains.
Mr. and Mrs. William Johnson and
their three childi'en barely escaped
from their home before it was crush-
ed by the water. Police and firemen
in canoes and rowboats reported res-
cuing more than 100 persons from
houses.
Safety Director Adolph Raab es-
timated the damage at Lancaster at
$200,000.
Vera Dietrich, 15, narrowly escap-
ed death at Lancaster when she was
caught in the onrush of water. Al-
bei’t Kelly, 16, jumped in and pulled
her to the side of a building, where
Richard Byers swam to them with
a rope.
Water covei'ed the east and west
sections of Lancaster.
Logan was nearly isolated . The
flood cut off traffic to the east, north
and west.
So quickly did the water rise that
residents in the flood area north of
here were able to salvage few be-
longings before fleeing.
B. G. Gamel of Bangs is visiting
in Lampasas with friends and rela-
tives.
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The Lampasas Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. [47], No. 42, Ed. 1 Friday, August 2, 1935, newspaper, August 2, 1935; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth891386/m1/3/?q=Lamar+University: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Lampasas Public Library.