The Schulenburg Sticker (Schulenburg, Tex.), Vol. 37, No. 36, Ed. 1 Friday, July 15, 1932 Page: 2 of 8
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THE SCHULENBURG STICKER, SCHULENBURG, TEXAS
: £
1 This Week
b Arthur Brisbane
Comfort in a Gold Mine
Beware the* Actinic Ray-
More Money Needed
Marriage a Comic Strip
Canada, the second largest gold-pro-
ducing country in the world, last year
produced fifty-five million dollars'
worth. Britain is the golden empire.
Its territory supplied five-sevenths of
all last year's gold, almost eleven mil-
lion ounces. British South Africa is
the greatest gold country.
Of gold there can be, under our
monetary system, no "overproduction."
And with government experts to in-
struct them, tens of thousands now
Idle could make a decent living "pan-
ning" gold within United States bor-
ders.
A mania for caps made of white
eotton, selling at 25 cents apiece, has
created work for 2,700 men and wom-
en in New York city. The idea will
spread. Young gentlemen who feel
that white caps make them look like
commodores of yacht clubs have for-
gotten about the "bare head craze."
To make the thing permanently suc-
cessful, manufacturers should put a
black or dark green lining inside the
caps, to exclude actinic rays. White
keeps out the heat, but admits actinic
rays, harmful to the brain. Read a
book about the effect of sunlight on
white men in tropical countries.
The happiest individual is an Afri-
can, with a white cloak and a white
turban. The white keeps out the heat,
the black skin keeps out the actinic
rays.
Ms
There is some money left in this
country of worries and doubts, fortu-
nately. Statements published by the
two biggest banks in America show
that the Chase bank has assets
amounting to one thousand seven hun-
dred and thirty-one million dollars,
and the National City bank assets of
one thousand five hundred and sixty-
seven millions. When this money and
some other billions get into business
and pay rolls, prosperity will come
back.
But banks cannot distribute the bil-
lions. That must be done through in-
dividual initiative, which is discour-
aged by destructive taxation, born of
reckless government extravagance.
Mrs. Minnie Kennedy Hudson, moth-
er of Aimee Semple McPherson Hut-
ton, known to millions as "Ma," de-
scribed modern hasty matrimony bet-
ter than it has been described hitherto.
She has only friendship for her hus-
band, only recently married, but finds
that her romance has "turned into a
comic strip—funny, and getting fun-
nier."
She pdds that she will be respon-
sibie for none of her husband's debts.
The increase in letter postage from
2 to 3 cents will cost New'York city
alone $60,000 a day. It disturbs banks
and brokers. The increases in regis-
tered mail charges are a heavy tax on
those that ship articles of great value.
One concern, I that sent a registered*
package from New York to San Fran-
cisco, paid $135. Before the new rate
It would have cost less than $8.
W-i:
Philip S. LaFollette, son of Robert,
a second time candidate for governor
of Wisconsin, says:
"If ye stand today on the brink of
a precipice, etc."
We do not "stand on the brink of
a precipice." We stand in the richest
country in the world, with no trouble
except that we have too much of
everything except brains and common
sense. We may be choked by too
much wheat, drowned in too much
oil, burned by too much coal, spoiled
by too much money, but there is not
any precipice, although it might be
possible to create an artificial preci-
pice that would work fairly well.
Smith Reynolds, only twenty, worth
many millions, died of a bullet wound
In the temple. His young wife, sec-
ond that he had married, was near.
The coroner is "satisfied it was sui-
cide."
Of all man's acts, suicide Is per-
haps the strangest. Wealth destroys
Itself, while poverty hangs on. One,
eager for notoriety, jumps into the
mouth of a volcano; another burns
the temple of Diana at Ephesus that
his name may be remembered; an old
Greek philosopher stumbles and falls
on leaving his classroom, then kills
himself. Napoleon, unable for many
years to rise in the French army, was
divided in his mind between suicide
and marrying an elderly, prosperous
widow. He avoided hoth.
r-'t
§m
Veterans that went to Washington
expecting a bonus will be surprised
to learn that the Capital has tear gas
"available in case of a major emer-
gency."
The gas would be used gently, how-
ever, according to the authorities.
"There will be no obnoxious^ use of
gas. The candles available here will
ispread only a thin cloud of smoke."
"The richest country in the world"
might find something better for needy
Veterans than tear gas.
The Desert's Price
V
By WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE
WNU Service'
Copyright by William MacLeod Ratne
SYNOPSIS
Wilson McCann, young Arizona ranchman,
finds an old friend, Jim Yerby, with a broken
Wg. Julia Stark, daughter of Matthew Stark,
inveterate enemy of the McCanns, is with him.
Jasper, Julia's brother, attempts to assassinate
Wilson. Ann Gifford, with her young sister,
Ethel, are sheep raisers, and on that account
unpopular with the cattlemen. "Night riders"
■hoot a McCann rider. Peter McCann, Wilson's
father, offers a reward for the disclosure of
their identity. Wilson McCann horsewhips
Jasper, he making practically no resistance.
Matthew Stark posts notice he will kill Wilson
McCann on sight. Ann Gifford's tragedy is the
fate of her dead sister, Nora, betrayed and
abandoned by her lover. Jasper Stark and Carl
Gitner, known as a "killer," hold secret con-
ferences. A Stark rider. Tom McArdle, is be-
lieved by the Starks to have been killed by the
McCanns, but rumor links his name with that
of Nora Gifford. Matthew Stark is killed, from
ambush. Julia finds him dead, with Wilson
McCann stooping over him. She and Phil, her
younger brother, accuse McCann of the killing,
despite his vehement denial. Wilson is shot
from the chapparal, while standing over Mat-
thew Stark's body. Believing him dying, the
Starks have him taken to their home. Dave
Stone, Stark rider, a Texan with a record as a
"killer," openly doubts Wilson's guilt. Jasper
is disinherited by his father's will. Wilson Mc-
Cann is restored to health. Jasper Stark, de-
spite the girl's aversion, seeks to persuade
Ethel Gifford to marry him, holding over her
the threat of revealing Ann as the slayer of
Tom McArdle. Ann drives him from the
ranch, defying him. Later she admits to Ethel
that she killed McArdle, Nora's betrayer. No
action as to Matthew Stark's killing is taken.
An anonymous letter to the sheriff charges Ann
Gifford with McArdle's murder.
Europe is alarmed by a drop In the
Mrth rate, France especially. Last
year only 741,000 French babies were
!!>orn. In 1868 the number was
1340,000.
Poland, the only country in Europe
' ithowlng an Increasing birth rate, la a
•Catholic country, and deeply religious,
(A IMS, by King Feature* Syndicate, Inc.)
(WNU Service)
CHAPTER VIII
—9—
A Quiet Man Talks
Stone had killed a white-tailed buck
lh the foothills of the Sierras. Phil
was "with him, and Julia. All three
of them had left the ranch in the early
morning.
They were homeward bound now,
with night impending. vIn the valley
darkness was beginning to fall, but
long shafts of golden glow still ran
along the mountain ridges and bathed
their rocky slopes in splendor. To
Julia the desert always symbolized
Itself In terms of life. She saw the
flash of teeth in its eternal conflict.
This little man riding beside her, so
lean and sinewy and dangerous, so
effective in meeting the conditions It
demanded to endure, was a reflection
of its gaunt persistence.
All day Phil had been preoccupied
with an anxiety that now found words.
"I'm worried some. Sis. At Mesa
yesterday I heard gossip." He stopped,
then added; "About Ann Gifford."
The Texan riding beside him gave
by no outward action any sign of in-
terest, but somehow Phil knew that he
was intent on catching every word.
"They say she shot Tom McArdle."
Julia flashed an indignant retort.
"How outrageous! And senseless!
What object could she possibly have?"
"They say—her sister Nora."
"What do you mean?"
••Why, that Tom was responsible."
"Oh!" The girl fell silent, her
thoughts busy knitting together loose
ends of gossip she had heard.
"Who says so?" she demanded.
The boy hesitated. He could talk
freely before Stone, for hard and tough
though the Texan was, an accredited
killer, both these young people sensed
In him the same loyalty that bound
them to Dominick Rafferty.
"Jas, for one," Phil gulped out.
"Jas!" Julia pulled up her horse ab-
ruptly. "What does he know about it?"
"Claims he practically saw her do
It, him an' Gitner."
Stone spoke for the first time.
"Where'd you hear this, Phil?"
" "In town. Everybody knows It.
They say when Hank Le Page went
out to her place she wouldn't even
deny it—jus' told him to prove it if he
could."
"But Jas—I don't understand. If
he saw her do it, or felt sure she had
done it, why did he wait nearly three
months to tell it? Why didn't he tell
It then, or not at all?" Julia asked.
"I don't know," Phil answered. "But
what worries me Is that the story is
liable to be true. She might a-done
It. She's thataway."
Out of the night came the Texan's
low drawl. "You needn't to worry
none, boy. She didn't' do it."
"You think she didn't?" Phil turned
with relief to Stone.
"I don't think. I know."
Julia turned white. "You don't
mean that—Jas did it?"
"No."
"But you know Who did?"
"I sure do."
"And you'll tell?"
"Yes, ma'am. I was tryin' to shield
him, for Tom McArdle certainly need-
ed killin'. But now that Miss Gifford's
name has been brought into it I reckon
he'll have to stand the gaff."
Both of the young Starks wanted to
ask him who had done it. More than
once the question almost passed Julia's
lips. But' there was something in the
little man's manner that restrained
her. If he wanted her to know he
would tell her.
"Well, I'm glad Ann Gifford didn't
do It," she said. "The poor girl's had
enough trouble. If she wasn't so stiff
with me—If she'd only meet me a quar-
ter of the way—I'd ride over tomorrow
and see her, just to show her we be-
lieve in her."
"I'd do that anyway," the Texan
said. "It would be right kind of you.
She sure needs a woman friend. Old
Jim Yerby is about the only one she
neighbors with a-tall."
"Will you go with me?" Julia asked
Stone. "You used to know her."
"I'll go with you if I'm footloose,"
he promised, rather evasively.
She laughed. "I believe you're
afraid to go."
"Tha's no josh, Miss Julia. Latfies
scare me."
"Some ladies," she corrected. "I no-
tice I don't scare you any."
Snatches of thought began to race
in the girl's brain. Usually when a
man was afraid of a woman, unless he
was her husband and had given of-
fense to her, it was because he wa3
attracted to her. She had observed a
painful shyness on the part of the
youths about' her as a symptom of
suppressed emotion. It was an uncon-
scious warning they flung out to Julia
to trim the sails of her manner to
them. This Texan would not exhibit
any awkward bashfulness. He was
too self-contained, too much master
of every nerve and muscle. None the
less he might, within, be as much dis-
turbed as they were. Why shouldn't
he be in love with Ann Gifford? She
guessed his age about forty, and in a
man that is still young.
He had walked dangerous trails, had
done dreadful things if rumors were
true. But she knew instinctively that
there still burned in him that dy-
namic spark of self-respect which justi-
fied him to himself. He had his stand-
ards, and he played the game by them.
She had no more doubt of this than
she had that such a man as Gitner
had no standards.
Ann Gifford needed some one to take
from her shoulder the heavy burden
life had laid upon them. Stone was
such a man, strong, quiet, self-reliant.
He was dangerous to his foes, but it
came to Julia with a flash of clairvoy-
ance that the very qualities that had
made his name notorious would be a
sure protection to a woman like Ann.
*•***••
Stone rode up to the office of Hank
Le Page, sheriff, swung from the sad-
dle, and dropped the bridle reins.
Le Page looked up from the ledger
in which he was laboriously entering
some items of expense. " 'Lo, Dave.
How's everything?"
"Fine an' dandy."
The Texan found a chair, a cigarette,
and a match.
For five minutes there was silence
except for the scratching of the
sheriff's pen and the gruntings with
which he accompanied the manual la-
bor of bookkeeping. Then, with a sigh
of relief, the official closed the heavy
volume.
"Anything new, Dave?" he asked, re-
laxing.
"Not a thing with me. Hear you've
hit a new trail in the McArdle case."
"Looks thataway. Some of you Cir-
cle Cross boys tipped me off that the
Gifford girl was seen makin' a getaway
from the place where Tom was "shot.
I went out to see her about it. She
acted mighty funny."
"How?"
"Oh, kinda defiant. The li'l sister
broke down an' cried. I couldn't get
a thing outa her, either."
"So you reckon Miss Ann did it?"
"Wouldn't it look that way? Tom
McArdle had made his brags about the
other sister. That was known. She'd
warned him off the place, Ann had.
Say they meet by-chance an' quarrel.
She's got a temper. Well, say \t ripped
loose an' she shot him."
"Looks reasonable. Only trouble is,
it ain't true."
"Think she didn't do it?"
And again Stone gave the answer he
had given Phil. "I ain't thinkin'. I
know."
The sheriff lost his manner of casual
ease. _
"Did you say you knew? How do
you know?"
"Saw him do it."
"Who?"'
"I'm allowin' to tell you who—pres-
ently."
"Hmp!" The sheriff looked at him,
not without resentment. "You've wait-
ed three months to tell me. Reckon
I can wait another five minutes."
"Sure. Fact is, I didn't aim to tell
you a-tall. But when I found out there
was talk about Miss Ann—why, tha's
different. Might as well begin at the
start. I usta hang around the sheep
ranch some my own self. Knew old
Gifford when he lived at Santone, so
I drifted in oncet in a while to advise
Miss Ann. I got kinda suspicious of
McArdle. He was one of these black-
mustached lady-killers, good lookin'
an' glib with his tongue. Nora was a
mighty nice li'l lady an' I could see she
had took a great fancy to him. What
I was worried about was that she'd
marry him, but that wasn't what hap-
pened. If I'd known what I knew
later, that McArdle had a wife living
at Prescott, well I'd sure have sat in
an' took a hand."
Le Page nodded. The Texan looked
away dreamily and blew smoke
wreaths. Presently he took up again
his story.
"After Miss Ann came back from
Los Angeles she wouldn't have any of
us around. On top of the trouble
about her sister some durn fools had
killed a bunch of her sheep. So she
jus' swept us all out. Tom had been
ridin' in to Tucson to see Ethel while
she was at school an' he tried goin' to
the ranch. Wish I'd been there when
he showed up, but I wasn't. Anyhow,
Miss Ann gave him the gate. For that
matter, the li'l sister was plumb
through with him when she found out
what he'd done."
"You're makin' a long story of ft,
Dave."
"I'm comin' to business now. The
mornin' Tom was killed four of us
from the Circle Cross had a camp near
the foot of Round Top. There was
Tom an' Jas an' Gitner a-n' myself.
We separated to pick up a bunch of
vacas to drive back to the ranch. 'Long
about sun-up I heard a shot right close
to me, over to the left where Tom was.
I rode thataway an' met Tom. He
was laughing fit to kill an' right away
began to tell me the joke. He'd just
seen Miss Ann an' been devilin' her
again. I didn't say a word but lis-
tened to him dig his grave with his
|RwiN
My hps
"I Reckon the Celebration Will Be
Later," the Man in the Apron Said
Significantly.
tongue. What tickled him so much
was that he'd riled her so that she'd
shot at him an' he'd pretended to fall
from his horse over a dugway like he
was dead. I asked him what he'd said
to make her so mad. He'd told her
he was coming' up to the ranch to see
her li'l sister J'
The Texan stopped. He looked out
of the open door at a freight outfit
coming down the dusty street. The
mule skinner was using raucous and
explosive language. Dave Stone did
not see him except automatically. An-
other picture filled his vision.
"The Gifford woman shot at him an'
missed," the sheriff prompted.
"Like I done told you. I said to
him, 'You don't reaily figure on going
back up to the sheep ranch after what
you've done?' He come back at me
right quick, that he sure did. I taken
a hand there an' then. I said he had
another guess comin', that' I wouldn't
stand for it. He got mad an' wanted
to know what business it was of mine.
Then lie began to lay the blame on
what had happened on that li'l girl ly-
ing in her grave out in California. I
told him what he was an' gave him
first chance to draw. His gun was in
the open when I killed him. It was
me or him an' I beat him to it."
"Jas Stark and Gitner didn't kncy*'
you did it?"
"No. I couldn't prove it was a fair
fight, so I rode back into the chaparral
when I heard them comin'. Pretty
soon I Showed up an' they began to
tell me how Miss Ann* had shot McAr-
dle. I'd a-told them how it was but
I saw Jas was all for hushin* it up
that she'd killed him, so I jus' told the
boys I didn't believe she'd done it an'
let' it go at that."
The sheriff reflected. "I'll have to
lock you up, Dave."
"Sure. But I've told you the straight
of it. Would you mind sendin' some
one out to the Gifford place to tell the
young ladies that it's all right far as
they're concerned?"
"I'll send some one soon as I can."
"Better jus' put it that we quar-
reled an' I killed him. No use worryin'
them with what I told you. I wanted
you to know the facts, but there's no
need of spreading 'em broadcast."
The sheriff assented.
A puncher riding the grub line
passed the Circle Cross and stopped
at the bunkhouse.
"I would of liked to a-got' home, but
I reckon I'll kick in here tonight," he
told himself plaintivelj7.
Jasper came to the doorway. " 'Lo,
Bud! Light an' look at yore saddle,"
he invited.
"I'd orta be pushin' on my reins,"
the puncher demurred. "My wife'll
sure give me a cussin' when I git home.
She knows I quit the Open AB three
days ago, because old Caldwell was
in town an' seen me there. I had hard
luck in Mesa. It's sure enough one
high-tariff town."
His predicament pleased Jasper. He
guessed that Bud had been "given his
time" at' the Open AB and had dis-
sipated his check in drink and gam-
bling.
"Did you get nicked at Pedro's
place?"
"For forty plunks, in a stud game.
My luck's something scand'lous."
The rider dropped from the saddle
and came into the bunkhouse. After
he had taken a couple of drinks he
forgot the story he meant to tell about
quitting his job because he didn't like
the foreman.
"I'm sore as a toad on a skillet," he
explained confidentially. "Me, I'm a
top-hand with a rope. You know that,
Jas. I aim to-hold up my end always.
Course I can get plenty of jobs. That
ain't It. 'Lo, Carl."
Gitner had drifted into the room and
seated himself at the table. "Anything
new In town?" he asked.
"Why no, I reckon not'. Except
about Dave Stone."
"What about him?"
Both of the cowpuncher's hosts had
become instantly intent, but he failed
to notice it.
"Why, he's been arrested for killin'
Tom McArdle. He rode in today an'
confessed to Hank Le Page that he
done It. They had some kind of a
row an' he plugged Tom."
Jasper drove a clenched fist down
on the table. "He's lyin', to get that
Gifford girl out of it. Why, he couldn't
a-done it. We practically caught her."
The eyes of Gitner met those of
Stark. A sly and furtive cunning
filled them. The germ of an idea was
filtering into that brutalized brain.
"I dunno, Jas. Maybe he could.
There was somethin' funny about the
way he looked when he come outa that
manzanita gulch, come to think of it.
He didn't really act surprised when he
saw Tom lyin' there. He played like
he was, seems to me. O* course if he
waylaid Tom from the brush—"
Jasper started. The Idea and It's
possibilities had come home to him. If
it could be made to appear that Stone
had shot Tom McArdle without giving
him a chance for his life the Texan
could be got rid of quickly. It was a
country of swift action. Stone's repu-
tation as a "bad man" would tell
against him. Sentiment could be
worked up. He had delivered himself
into their hands.
If Jasper had not been thoroughly
5ZSSSZ5HSZSZ5Z5HSZSSSZSZ5Z5ZSSSHSSSZ5Z5Z5Z5H5i£5ZSZ5Z5ElSiE5Z5Z5SSZSSS!2SE!
Explosion of Krakatoa Believed to Be Record
The greatest explosion which the
world has ever known took place in
1883 when the volcano, Krakatoa, lo-
cated in the Sunda strait between
Java and Sumatra, blew up. "At that
time a huge crater stood there, with a
rim of islands 2,600 feet above the
sea," writes Charles Baker, Jr., in
Boys' Life, the monthly publication
of the Boy Scouts of America. "The
whole cluster of islands were blown
into bits, leaving a hole in the sea
1,000 feet deep; 3,600 vertical feet of
rock were thrown aside.
"These explosions were caused by
steam from sea water in the throat
of the new crater meeting the first of
the molten lava," continues Mr. Baker.
"After the first explosions, water prob-
ably chilled the lava to a crust, en-
closing enormous quantities of steam
within. This finally burst through the
chilled crust in the most violent ex-
plosion, hurling a vast mass of cool
Sensible Speaker
A good story is told of Edmund
Burke, the celebrated English orator
und friend of America. A colleague
of Burke's, rather a poor speaker, was
called upon to speak immediately aft-
er Burke had made one of his best
speeches. Rising to his feet, he said,
"I say ditto to Mr. Burke—I say ditto
to Mr. Burke," and sat down.
lava, pumice and dust into the air.
The sound of the explosion was heard
3.000 miles away. Never before or
since have sound waves carried so far
on earth. Long tidal waves 50 feet
high reached Cape Horn, South Amer-
ica, <,81S miles away. Thirty-six
thousand people were killed. Thou-
sands of ships were destroyed or car-
ried high and dry, far inland."
Famous Irish Race Course
The word "curragh"' derives from
the Gaelic c-uirrech. Cuirrech means
race course and also low-lying or
marshy ground. The double meaning
is understandable in that flat land
would naturally be selected for a
race course. The Curragh of Kildare
is one of the most famous race courses
in the world. Beside the River Liffey,
near Dublin, it is the scene of the
Irish derby and many other famous
races. Also, the great Dublin horse
fair is held there annually. In the
Tenth century the king of Leinster
granted the Curragh of Kildare, which
embraces some 4.800 acres, to St.
Bridget, who gave it to the people as
a common. For 1,000 years it has been
preserved as open land.
frightened he would not have jumped
so eagerly at Gitner's suggestion. But
he quaked like the coward he was at
thought of what the little man knew.
The terror of it walked with him day
and night. Stone was dangerous, a
ruthless tool of Nemesis dogging his
footsteps to destroy him. He had fol-
lowed Gitner's logic, that the only
safety for them lay in putting an end
to the man.
Now a way had opened, without' dan-
ger, with no possible comeback. If
Mesa rose up and lynched the mur-
derer of Tom McArdle he could not be
blamed in any way.
"Let's go to town, Carl," he pro-
posed. "We gotta find just how things
lay."
"Reckon I'll go back with you, boys,"
Bud said.
The three rode there together. They
dismounted in front of Pedro's place.
Gitner led the way to the bar. "Free
drinks on me today, boys. Everybody
welcome. Set 'em up, Pedro."
The process of working up public
sentiment for a lynching had begun.
Silent Mirth
A gentleman is often seen, but very
seldom heard to laugh.—Chesterfield.
CHAPTER IX
Ann Rides to Mesa
In town with a pack horse for sup-
plies, Jim Yerby stopped at the Gilt
Edge saloon to get a bottle of snake-
bite medicine. The old-timer ad-
mitted that he never had been struck
by a rattler but you never could tell
when your luck would turn bad. He
took the cure in advance to forestall
the evil day.
While Yerby talked to the bar-
tender his quick beady eyes darted
round the room on voyages of discov-
ery. Something was in the air, some-
thing that caused unwonted excite-
ment. The patrons of the place were
gathered together in knots, arid at the
heart of each group a man was talk-
ing in a low urgent voice. Jasper
Stark was one of the murmuring ora-
tors. Another was Carl Gitner.
The bartender took Yerby's money
for the bottle of liquor he bought but
pushed back the quarter proffered for
the drink.
"It's on some of the boys today," he
explained.
"A li'l celebratin'?" asked the nester
with lifted eyebrows.
"I reckon the celebratin' will be
later," the man in the apron said sig-
nificantly.
Yerby sauntered to the outskirts of
the nearest group. It was the one in
the center of which Jasper Stark
sawed the air.
"You say he was our friend when
he did it," Jasper was repeating, in-a
voice dry as a whisper. "Leave it lay
at that. Say he was. So was Tom.
But that ain't the point. I wouldn't
make no holler if he'd plugged Tom
fair an' square in the open. No, gents.
I'd go through from h—1 to breakfast
for him. You're d—n whistling I
would. If it had a-been thataway.
Which It wasn't. Like I been tellin*
you, this Texas killer an' Tom had
quarreled. Stone told Car' an' he told
me that he would sure get Tom. When
we saw the Gifford woman lighting
out so sudden we figured naturally
that' she'd done it. All the same, both
Carl an' I thought Stone acted mighty
funny when he came outa the brush
an' found us beside Tom's body. He
played like he was surprised, an' it
didn't get acrost to us. We suspicioned
somehow he knew more'n he said.
Maybe he was in cahoots with Ann
Gifford."
Yerby spoke up promptly. "Not on
yore tintype. Miss Ann hadn't a thing
to do with this. She's a right nice
young lady."
Bleaky Jasper looked at him. "Sorry
if I hurt yore feelings by naming yore
sheepherding friends, Yerby," he
sneered. "But leave that go. Say
Stone played a lone hand. Question
is: Can a Texas killer come in here
an' shoot down our boys from the
brush an' get away with if? I'll gam-
ble on it he can't"
"Meanin'?" asked Yerby.
"Meanin' that the boys aim to take
a hand pronto."
The nester knew the crowd had been
drinking. He had met before the lust
to kill that makes a mob cruel and in-
human. For some reason, he saw at
once, young Stark was working up the
men of Mesa to an act of summary
vengeance.
"Hold yore hawsses, Jas. I'd like
right well to hear Stone's story before
you get rampageous. He's a killer, I
reckon. Leastways he's got that rep.
But he don't look to me like one of
the kind that shoots you whilst he's
shakin' hands with you. No sense in
going off half cocked."
"What's eatin' you, Yerby? This
Stone has confessed he did it," Jasper
Interrupted rudely.
"Has he confessed he shot Tom from
the brush?"
The sly and shifty eyes of the
younger man met those of the old-
timer and slid away. "Not necessary.
The facts show it. Carl an* I were
the first folks on the ground. Tom
hadn't fired a shot. The coward that
shot him never gave him a chance."
"When you tell that to a Jury—H
.(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Modern Contract
Bridge By Leiia Hattersley
No. 5
Distributional Values
TXT"HEN your hand Indicates that
* * a suit take-out is the best policy,
but the sum of your honor-tricks 1s
below the yardstick measurement for
game, you should declare only a suf-
ficient number of tricks to cover your
partner's bid. In taking out with a
no trump, use the yardstick measure-
ment, bidding one or two no trumps
according to the indications of your
partnership holding in honor-tricks.
In short, whenever you are taking
out and it is still uncertain whether
your partnership hands will prove
congenial at your new bid, you must
tread gingerly unless the sum of your
honor-tricks spells "GAME."
Often however, when your partner
has made an original suit bid of one,
there may enter into your response
a factor which justifies you in totally
disregarding the yardstick measure-
ment of honor-tricks, so important in
most responses. This factor is the
distribution of your hand. If your
hand is so favorably distributed as
to show great length in your partner's
suit, length in a second suit and'com-
plete absence of a third, as for ex-
ample : S-Q 10 9 8 7 6, H-5, D-none, C-
109 8 6 53, when your partner has bid
a spade, you could ignore your lack
of honor-tricks and jump immediately
into a game bid. Such a proceeding
would be justified by the fact that
your spade strength would so solidify
your partner's trump holding as to
promise no losers in that suit; your
length in clubs offers the probability
of setting up some end cards or giv-
ing your partner repeated ruffing op-
portunities, and most important of all
in compensating for your deficit of
honor-tricks, your short and missing
suits would enable you to trump off
your opponent's defensive1 strength in
honor-tricks. It is certain that no
more than one honor-trick in hearts
could be cashed against you, and none
at all in diamonds. So that even
though your partnership total of hon-
or-tricks sums up only to the 2^4
which your partner's original bid
guaranteed, your practical certainty
of breaking down the opponent's de-
fense is equivalent to a strong honor-
trick holding when reckoned for its
assisting value to your partner.
Playing Tricks
As a rule the last thing that a con-
tract player learns is the most im-
portant thing he should know. That
is, how to count the playing tricks
in his hand.
Playing tricks are the general
tricks your own hand may be expected
to take if your declaration or your
partner's declaration becomes final.
When making an opening bid at no
trumps, it is rarely possible to lo-
cate playing tricks, other than hon-
or-tricks, because you have no definite
long strong suit to establish. (With
a biddable suit, you would not de-
clare no trump.) But the count of
honor-tricks in the hand will auto-
matically include a proportionate
amount of low card tricks.
When shifting into a no trump, or
entering a later stage of the bidding
with a no trump declaration, it Is
often possible to count definite play-
ing tricks according to the location
of strength shown by others bids or
by the xact of a strong minor suit
In your own' or your partner's hand
which can be set up. But for opening
no trump bids and no trump raises
and rebids, there is no better guide
than the wardstick count of honor-
tricks.
The direct and simple method of
counting honor-tricks, so helpful in
valuing no trumps, will not answer
for raises and rebids at declared
trumps, which must be played under
totally different conditions. As a mat-
ter of fact, the difference in play of
no trump and suit hands creates two
almost totally different games; so
that a separate system of valuation
must necessarily be used for each.
The count of playing tricks at a
suit bid is an easy matter for a play-
er of long experience and judgment.
Fortunately for the average player,
in the approach-forcing system what
is an unconscious mental procgpswith
the expert has been translated into
a concrete form known as the dis-
tributional count The distributional
count may be mastered in half an
hour's study, and once clearly com-
prehended, enables any team of play-
ers to value their hands at suit bids
with the precision of experts.
(©, 1932, by Leila Hattersley.)
(WNU Service)
Angling Pro and Cob
I/aak Walton said: "We may say
of angling as Doctor Boteler said of
strawberries: 'Doubtless God could
have made a better berry, but doubt-
less God never did'; and so, (If I
might be judge) God never did make a
more calm, quiet, innocent recreation
than angling. But Doctor Johnson, a
much more erudite man, defined a fish-
ing rod as "a stick with a hook at one
end and a fool at the other."
Civilization Built on Coal
Today's civilization requires more
work than human labor can perform.
The dominant source of brain replac-
ing energy is coal. We are today us-
ing 20 times as much coal per capita
as we did in 1850. Goal is the most
Important source of energy in our
modem Industrial civilization and has
made our national life into a compli-
cated network of interdependent
groups with duties to each other.
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Bosl, Ernest A. The Schulenburg Sticker (Schulenburg, Tex.), Vol. 37, No. 36, Ed. 1 Friday, July 15, 1932, newspaper, July 15, 1932; Schulenburg, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth428684/m1/2/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Schulenburg Public Library.