The Cumby Rustler. (Cumby, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 42, Ed. 1 Friday, January 15, 1915 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 CUMBY RUSTLER
it
m
m
ft:
The Last Shot
FREDERICK PALMER
(Copyright. 1914. by Charles Scribner’s Sons)
SYNOPSIS. '
At their home on the frontier between
the Browns and Grays Marta Galland and
her mother, entertaining Colonel Wester-
ling of the Grays, see Captain Lanstron,
staff intelligence officer of the Browns,
Injured by a fall in his aeroplane. Ten
years later. Westerllng, nominal vice but
real chief of staff, reinforces South La
Tir, meditates on war, and speculates on
the comparative ages of himself and Mar-
ta, who is visiting in the Gray capital.
Westerllng calls on Marta. She tells him
of her* teaching children the follies of war
and martial patriotism, begs him to pre-
vent war while he is chief of staff, and
predicts that If he makes war against the
Browns he will not win. On the march
with the 63d of the Browns Private Stran-
sky. anarchist, decries war and played-
out patriotism and Is placed under arrest.
Colonel Lanstron overhearing, begs him
off. Lanstron calls on Marta at her home.
He talks with Feller, the gardener. Marta
tells Lanstron that she believes Feller to
be a spy. Lanstron confesses It Is true.
Lanstron shows Marta a telephone which
Feller has concealed In a secret passage
under the tower for use to benefit the
Browns In war emergencies. Lanstron de-
clares his love for Marta. Westerllng and
the Gray premier plan to use a trivial In-
ternational affair to foment warlike pa-
triotism in army and people.
CHAPTER VII—Continued.
“And the press—the mischievous,
greedy, but very useful press?" asked
the premier.
“It also shall serve; also obey. No
lists of killed and wounded shall be
given out until I am ready. The pub-
lic must know nothing except what I
choose to tell. I act for the people
ABd the nation."
f‘That is agreed,” said the premier.
“For these terrible weeks every nerve
and muscle of the nation is at your
•ervice to win for. the nation. In
three or foun days I shall know if the
public rises to the call. If not—" He
shook his head.
“While all the information given
out is provocative to our people, you
will declare* your hope that war may
he averted," Westerllng continued.
“This will screen our purpose. Final-
ly, on top of public enthusiasm will
come the word that the Browns have
fired the first shot—as they must
when we cross the frontier—that they
have been killing our soldiers. This
will make the racial spirit of every
man respond. Having decided for
war, every plan is worthy that helps
to victory.”
i “It seems fi4ndish!" exclaimed the
premier in answer to a thought eddy-
ing in the powerful current of his
brain. “Fiendish with calculation,
but merciful, as you say."
“A faat, terrific campaign! A ready
machine taking the road!” Westerllng
declared. “Less suffering than if we
went to war carelessly for a long cam-
paign—than if we allowed sentiment
to interfere with intellect.”
“I like your energy, your will!” said
the premier admiringly. “And about
the declaration of war? We shall
tinfe that to your purpose.”
“Declarations of ‘ war before strik-
ing, by nations taking the aggressive,
are a disadvantage,” Westerllng ex-
plained. “They are going out of prac-
tice. Witness the examples of Japan
t
'*1 Stake My Life I” He Cried Hoarsely.
Against Russia and the Balkan allies
Against Turkey. In these days dec-
larations are not necessary as a warn-
ing of what is going to happen. They
belong to the etiquette of fencers.”
“Yes, exactly. The declaration of
war and the ambassador’s passports
will be prepared and the wire that
lighting has begun will release them,”
Agreed the premier.
“’Yet If we did lose! If when I had
40ven you all you ask your plans went
wrong! If our army were broken to
pieces on the frontier and then the
■nation, kept in ignorance of events,
learned the truth”—the premier enun-
ciated slowly and pointedly while he
'looked glances with Westerllng—“that
the end Tor us both. You would
hardly want to return to the capital
to face public wrath!”
“We must win though we lose a
million men!” he answered. ‘T stake
my life!” he cried hoarsely, striking
his fist on the table.
“You stake your life!” repeated the
premier with slow emphasis.
“I do!” said Westerling. “Yes, my
life. We cannot fail!”
“Then it will be war, if the people
want it!” said the premier. “I shall
not resist their desire!” he added in
his official manner, at peace with his
conscience.
• * * • •
Partow was a great brain set on an
enormous body. Partow’s eyes had
the fire of youth at sixty-five, but the
pendulous flesh of his cheeks was
pasty. Jealousy and faction had en-
deavored for years to remove him
from his position at the head of the
army on account of age. New govern-
ments decided as they came in that he
must go, and they went out with him
still in the saddle.
Let officers apply themselves with
conspicuous energy and they heard
from a genial Partow; let officers only
keep step and free of courts martial,
and they heard from a merciless task-
master. Peculiarly human, peculiarly
dictatorial, dynamic, and inscrutable
was Partow, who never asked any one
under him to work harder than him-
self.
Lanstron appeared in the presence
of Jove shortly after eight o’clock the
next morning after he left La Tir.
Jove rolled his big head on his short
neck in a nod and said:
“Late!”
“The train was late, sir,” Lanstron
replied, “and I have some news about
our thousandth chance.”
“Hm-m! What is it?” asked Partow.
When Lanstron had told his story,
Partow worked his lips in a way he
had if he were struck by a passing re-
flection which might or might not have
a connection with the subject in hand.
“Strange about her when you consider
who her parents were!” he said. “But
you never know. Hm-m! Why don’t
you sit down, young man?”
“The way that the Grays gave out
our dispatch convinces me of their in-
tentions,” Partow said. “Their peo-
ple are rising to it and ours are rising
in answer. The Grays have been trans-
ferring regiments from distant prov-
inces to their frontier because they
will fight better In an Invasion. We
are transferring home regiments to
our frontier because they will fight
for their own property. By Thursday
you will find that open mobilization on
both sides has begun.”
“My department is ready,” said
Lanston, “all except your decision
about press censorship.”
"A troublesome point,” responded
Partow. “I have procrastinated be-
cause two definite plans were fully
worked out. It Is a matter of choice
between them: either publicity or com-
plete secrecy. You know I am no be-
liever in riding two horses at onee.
My mind is about made up; but let me
hear your side again. Sometimes I get
conviction by probing another man’s.”
Lanstron was at his beBt, for his
own conviction was intense.
“Of course they will go In for se-
crecy; but our case is different,” he
began.
Partow settled himself to listen with
the gift of the organizer who draws
from his informant the brevity of es-
sentials.
“I should take the people into our
confidence,” Lanstron proceeded. “I
should make them feel that we were
one family fighting for all we hold
dear against the invader. If our losses
are heavy, if we have a setback, then
the inspiration of the heroism of those
who have fallen and the danger of
their own homes feeling the foot of
the invader next will impel theMiving
to greater sacrifices. For the Strays
are in the wrong. The moral and the
legal right is with us.”
“And the duty of men like you and
me, chosen for the purpose,” said Par-
tow, “is worthily to direct the cour-
age that goes with moral right. The
overt act of war must come from them
by violating our frontier, not in the
African jungle but here. Even when
the burglar fingers the window-sash
we shall not fire—no, not until he en-
ters our house. When he does, you
would have a message go out to our
people that will set them quivering
with indignation?”
“Yes, and I would let the names of
our soldiers who fall first be known
and how they fell, their backs to their
frontier homes and their faces to the
foe.”
Our very liberality in giving news
will help us to cover the military
secrets which we desire to preserve,”
Partow said, with slow emphasis. “We
shall hold back what we please, con-
fident of the people’s trust. Good
policy that, yes! But enough! Your
orders are ready, in detail, I believe.
You have nothing to add?”
"No, sir, nothing; at least, not until
war begins.”
"Very well. We shall have the or-
ders issued at the proper moment,”
concluded Partow. "And Westerling
is going to find,” he proceeded after a
thoughtful pause,. “that a man is
readier to die fighting to hold his own
threshold than fighting to take anoth-
er man’s. War is not yet solely an af-
fair of machinery and numbers. The
human element is still uppermost. Give
me your hand—no, not that one, not
the one you shake hands with—the
one wounded in action!”
Partow inclosed the stiffened fin-
gers in his own with something of the
caress which an old bear that is in
very good humor might give to a
promising cub.
“I have planned, planned, planned
for this time. The world shall soon
know, as the elements of it go into the
crucible test, whether it is well done
or not. I want to live to see the day
when the last charge made against our
trenches is beaten back. Then they
may throw this old body onto the rub-
bish heap as soon as they please—it
is a fat, unwieldly behemoth of an old
body!”
“No, no, it isn’t!” Lanstron objected
hotly. He was seeing only what most
people saw after talking with Partow
for a few minutes, his fine, intelligent
eyes and beautiful forehead.
“All thit I wanted of the body was
to feed my brain,” Partow continued,
heedless of the interruption. “I have
watched my mind as a navigator
watches a barometer. I have been
ready at the first sign that it was los-
ing its grip to give up. Yet I have
felt that my body would go on feeding
my brain and that to the last moment
of consciousness, when suddenly the
body collapses, I should have self-
possession and energy of mind. Under
the coming strain the shock may come,
as a cord snaps. At that instant my
successor will take up my work where
I leave It off.
“The old fogy who has aimed to
join experience to youth chooses
youth. You took your medicine with-
out grumbling in the disagreeable but
vitally important position of chief of
t
“It Is All There, My Life, My Dreams,
My Ambitions.”
intelligence. Now you—there, don’t
tremble with stage fright!” For Lan-
stron’s hand was quivering in Partow’s
grasp, while his face was that of a
man stunned.
“You are to be at the right hand of
this old body,” continued Partow. “You
£re to go with me to the front; to
sleep in the room next to mine; to be
always at my side, and, finally, you are
to promise that If ever the old body
fails in its duty to the mind, if ever
you see that I am not standing up to
the strain, you are to say so to me and
I give you my word that I shall let you
take charge.”
Lanstron was too stunned to speak
for a moment. The arrangement
seemed a hideous joke; a refinement
of cruelty inconceivable. It was ex-
pecting him to tell Atlas that he was
old and to take the weight of the
world off the giant’s shoulders.
“Have you lost your patriotism?”
demanded Partow. “Are you afraid?
afraid to tell me the truth? Afraid
of duty? Afraid in your youth of the
burden that I bear in age?”
His fingers closed in on Lanstron’s
with such force that the grip was
painful.
“Promise!” he commanded.
“I promise!” Lanstron said with a
throb.
“That’s it! That’s the way! That’s
the kind of soldier I like,” Partow de-
clared with change of tone, and he
rose from his chair with a spring that
was a delight to Lanstron in its proof
of the physical vigor so stoutly denied.
“We have a lot to say to each other
today,” he added; “but first I am go-
ing to show you the whola bag of
tricks.”
His arm crooked in Lanstron s, they
teent along the main corridor of the
staff office and entered a vault having
h. single chair and a small table in
the center and lined by sections of
numbered pigeonholes, each with a
combination lock. At the base of one
section was a small safe. It was not
the first time that Lanstron had been
in this vault. He had the combination
of two of the sections of pigeonholes,
aerostatics and intelligence. The rest
belonged to other divisions.
"The safe is my own, as you know.
No one opens it; no one knows what
is in U but me,” Bald Partow, taking
from It an envelope and a manuscript.
which he laid on the tabla. “There
you hare all that is in my brain—the
whole plan. The envelope contains
the combinations of all the pigeon-
holes, if you wish to look up any de-
tails.”
“Thank you!” Lanstron half whis-
pered. It was all he could think of
to say.
“And you will find that there is
more than you thought, perhaps; the
reason why I have fought hard to re-
main chief of staff; why—” Partow
continued In a voice that had the se-
pulchral uncanniness of a threat long
nursed now breaking free of the bond-
age of years within the sound-proof
walls. “But—” he broke off suddenly
as if he distrusted even the security
of the vault. “Yes, it Is all there—my
life’s work, my dream, my ambition,
my plan!”
Lanstron heard the lock slide in the
door as Partow went out and he was
alone with' the army’s secrets. As he
read Partow’s firm handwriting, many
parts fell together, many moves on
a chessboard grew clear. His breath
came faster, he bent closer over the
table, he turned back pages to go
over them again. Every sentence
dropped home in his mind like a bolt
In a socket. Unconscious of the pas-
sage of time, he did not heed the door
open or realize Partow's presence un-
til he felt Partow’s hand on his shoul-
der.
“I see that you didn’t look into any
of the pigeonholes,” the chief of staff
observed.
Lanstron pressed his finger-tips on
the manuscript significantly.
“No. It Is all there!”
“The thing being to carry it out!”
said Partow. “God with us!” he add-
ed devoutly.
CHAPTER VIII.
Close to the White Posts.
On Saturday evening the 128th regi-
ment of the Grays was mustered in
field accoutrements and a full supply
of cartridges. In the darkness the
first battalion marched out at right,
angles to the main road that ran
through La Tir and South La Tir. At
length Company B, deployed in line
of skirmishers, lay down to sleep on
its arms.
“We wait here for the word,” Fra-
casse, the. captain, whispered to his
senior lieutenant. “If it comes, our
objective is the house and the old
castle on the hill above the town.”
The tower of the church showed
dimly when a pale moon broke
through a cloud. By its light Hugo
Mallin saw on his left the pinched
and characterless features of Peter-
kin. A few yards ahead was a white
stone post.
“That's their side over there!” whis-
pered the banker’s son, who was next
to Peterkin.
“When we cross war begins,” said
the manufacturer’s son.
“I wonder if they are expecting us!”
said the judge’s son a trifle huskily,
in an attempt at humor, though he
was not given to humor.
“Just waiting to throw bouquets!”
whispered the laborer’s son. He, too,
was not given to humor and he, too,
spoke a trifle huskily.
“And we’ll fix bayonets when we
Btart and they will run at the sight
of our steel!” said Eugene Aronson.
He and Hugo alone, not excepting Pfi-
zer, the butcher’s son, spoke in their
natural voices. The others were try-
ing to make their, voices sound natu-
ral, while Pfizer’s voice had devel-
oped a certain ferocity, and the liver
patch on his cheek twitched more fre-
quently. "Why, Company B is in
front! We have the post of honor, and
maybe our company will win the most
glory of any in the regiment!” Eu-
gene added. “Oh, we’ll beat them!
The bullet is not made that wifi get
me!”
“Your service will he over in time
for you to help with the spring plant-
ing/ Eugene,” whispered Hugo, who
was apparently preoccupied with many
detached thoughts.
“And you to be at home sucking
lollipops!” Pfizer growled to Hugo.
“That would be better than murder-
ing my fellowman to get his property,”
Hugo answered, so soberly that it did
not seem to his comrades that he was
joking this time. Pfizer’s snarling ex-
clamation of “White feather!” came in
the midst of a chorus of indignation.
Captain Fracasse, who had heard
only the disturbance without knowing
the cause, interfered in a low, sharp
tone:
“Silence! As I have told you be-
fore, silence! We don’t want them to
know that we are here. Go to sleep!
You may get no rest tomorrow night!”
But little Peterkin, the question in
his mind breaking free of his lips, un-
wittingly asked:
“Shall—shall we fight In the morn-
ing?”
“I don’t know. Nobody knows!” an-
swered Fracasse. “We wait on orders,
ready to do our duty. There may be
no war. Don't let me hear another
peep from you!”
Now all closed their eyes. In front
of them was vast silence which
seemed to stretch from end to end of
the frontier, while to the rear was the
rumble of switching railway trains
and the rumble of provision trains and
artillery on the roads, and in the dis-
tanoe on the plain the headlight of a
locomotive cut a swath in the black
night. But the breathing of most of
the men was not that of slumber,
though Eugene and Pfizer slept
soundly. Hours passed. Occasional
restless movements told of efforts to
force eleep by changing position.
“It’s the waiting that’s sickening!”
exploded the manufacturers sou un-
der his breath, desperately.
“So I say. I’d like to be at U and
done with the suspense!” said Ms
doctor’s son.
“They say If you are shot through
the head you don’t know what killed
you it’s so quick. Think of that!”
exclaimed Peterkin, huddling closer to
Hugo and shivering.
“Yes, very merciful,” Hugo whis-
pered, patting Peterkin’s arm.
“Sh-h-h! Silence, I tell you!” com-
manded Fracasse crossly. He was
falling into a half doze at last.
*******
In marching order, with cartridge-
boxes full, on Saturday night, the 53d
of the Browns marched out of bar-
racks to the main pass road. One
company after another left the road at
a given point, bound for the position
mapped in its instructions. Dellarme’s,
however, went on until it was oppo-
site the Galland house.
“We are depending on you,” the
colonel said to Dellarme, giving his
hand a grip. “You are not to draw
off till you get the flag.”
“No, sir,” Dellarme replied.
"Mind the signal to the batteries—
keep the men screened—warn them
not to let their first baptism of shell
fire break their nerves!” the colonel
added in a final repetition of Instruc-
tions already indelibly impressed on
the captain’s mind.
Moving cautiously through a cut,
Dellarme’s company came, about mid-
night, to a halt among the stubble of
a wheat-field behind a knoll. After
he had bidden the men to break ranks,
he crept up the incline.
“Yes, it’s there!” he whispered when
he returned. “On the crest of the
knoll a cord is stretched from stake
to stake,” he said, explaining the rear
son for what was to be done, as was
his custom. “The engineers placed It
there after dusk and the frontier was
closed, so that you would know Just
where to use your spades in the dark.
Quietly as possible! No talking!” he
kept cautioning as the men turned the
soft earth, “and not higher than the
cord, and lay the stubble side of the
sods on the reverse so as to cover
the fresh earth on the sky-line.”
When the work was done all re-
turned behind the knoll except the
sentries posted at intervals on the
crest to watch. With the aid of a
small electric flash, screened by his
hands, Dellarme again examined a sec-
tion of the staff map that outlined the
contour of the knoll in relation to the
other positions. After this he wrote
in his diary the simple facts of the
day’s events, concluding with a senti-
ment of gratitude for the honor
shown his company and a prayer that
he might keep a clear head and do
his duty if war came on the morrow.
“Now, every one get all the sleep he
can!” he advised the men.
Straneky slept with his head on his
arm, soundly; the others slept no bet-
ter than the men of the 128th. The
night passed without any alarm ex-
cept that of their own thoughts, and
they welcomed dawn as a relief from
suspense. There was no hot coffee
this morning, and they washed down
their rations with water from their
“It Looks Like Business,” Declared the
Old Sergeant.
canteens. The old sergeant was lying
beside Captain Dellarme on the crest,
the sunrise in their faces. As the mist
cleared from the plain it revealed the
white dots of the frontier posts in the
meadow and behind them many gray
figures in skirmish order, scarcely vis-
ible except through the glasses.
“It looks like business!” declared
the old sergeant.
“Yes, it begins the minute they
cross the line!” said Dellarme.
His glance sweeping to the rear to
scan the landscape under the light of
day, he recognized, with a sense of
pride and awe, the tactical importance
of his company’s position In relation
to that of the importance of the other
companies. Easily he made out the
regimental line by streaks of con-
cealed trenches and groups of brown
uniforms; and here and there were
the oblong, cloth stretches of waiting
hospital litters. On the reverse slope
of another knoll was the f&rmhousA
marked X on his map as the regimen-
tal headquarters, where he was te
watch for the signal to fall back from
his first stand in delaying the enemi’i
advance. Directly to the ^-ar was the
cut through which the company bad
come from the main pass road, and be
yond that the Galland house, ^hich
was to be the *»eeoud stand.
rr<j bx a>.N,.r’k»'U£nji
IS CHILD CROSS,
FEVERISH, SICK
Look, Mother! If tongue is
coated, give “California
Syrup of Figs.”
Children love this “fruit laxative,”
And nothing else cleanses the tender
stomach, liver and bowels so nicely.
A child simply will not stop playing
to empty the bowels, and the result is
they become tightly clogged with
waste, liver gets sluggish, stomach
sours, then your little one becomes
cross, half-sick, feverish, don’t eat.
sleep or act naturally, breath is bad,
system full of cold, has sore throat,
stomach-ache or diarrhoea. Listen,
Mother! See If tongue is coated, then
give a teaspoonful of “California
Syrup of Figs,” and in a few hours all
the constipated waste, sour bile and
undigested food passes out of the sys-
tem, and you have a well child again.
Millions of mothers give “California
Syrup of Figs” because it is perfectly
harmless; children love it, and it nev-
er fails to act on the stomach, liver
and bowels.
Ask at the store for a 50-cent bottle
of “California Syrnp of Figs/’ which
has full directions for babies, children
of all ages and for grown-ups plainly
printed on the bottle. Adv.
POINT IN CHILD EDUCATION
Before Punishment of Faults There
Should Be Careful Weighing
of Motives.
Is it not true that parents often
seek their own peace and comfort
rather than the welfare and reforma-
tion of a child in the punishment of
faults ? “Let us do the easiest and
have it over.” One of the m6st vital
points in child education Is the careful
weighing of motives and tempera-
ments. Be firm and calm—and that is
reasonable. The close relationship of
body, mind and soul demands a con-
sideration of this trinity of each indi-
vidual in order to have a healthful
unit. Poor digestion makes an irri-
table temper, a defect of vision may
be at the root of a moral obliquity,
and deafness makes for seeming idi-
ocy. Many physicians have failed to
help solve a mother problem because
they have not understood the child’s
defect, which was far removed from
the superficial symptoms.—Modern
Priscilla.
SALTS IF BACKACHY OR
KIDNEYS TROUBLE YOU
fiat Less Meat If Your Kidneys Aren't
Acting Right or If Back Hurts or
Bladder Bothers You.
When you wake up with backache
and dull misery in the kidney region
it generally means you have been eat-
ing too much meat, says a well-known
authority. Meat forms uric acid which
overworks the kidneys in their effort
to filter it from the blood and they be-
come sort of paralyzed and loggy.
When your kidneys get sluggish and
clog you must relieve them like you
relieve your bowels; removing all the
body’s urinous waste, else you have
backache, sick headache, dizzy spells?,
your stomach sours, tongue is coated,
and when the weather is bad you have
rheumatic twinges. The urine Is
cloudy, full of sediment, channels oft-
en get sore, water sealds and you are
obliged to seek relief two or three
times during the night.
Either consult a good, reliable physl-
n at once or get from your pharma-
cist about four ounces of Jad Salts;
take a tablespoonful in a glass of
water before breakfast for a few days
and your kidneys will then act fine.
This famous salts is made from the
acid of grapes and lemon juice, com-
bined with lithia, and has been used
for generations to clean and stimulate
sluggish kidneys, also to neutralize
acids in the urine so it no longer irri-
tates, thus ending bladder weakness.
Jad Salts is a life saver for regular
meat eaters. It is inexpensive, cannot
injure and makes a delightful, effer-
vescent lithla-water drink.—Adv.
Cifl.1
cist
observed
The Wise Fool.
“Time works wonders,”
the sage.
“So could I if I were as tireless &a
time,” responded the fool.
Next Gentleman, Please.
Said He—Mrs. Threetimes is a
widow, is she not?
Said She—Yes, temporarily.
Liberal Doaes.
Subbubs—How often is this medl*
cine to be taken?
Doctor—Between cooks.
Fitting Ejaculation.
“Here that mean fellow has sent
me a lip stick.”
“Can you beat it!”
Hicks' CAPUDINE
CURES HEADACHES AND COLDS
-Easy To Take—Quick Relief.—Adv.
A man hasn’t a very good religion
when he regards Sunday as the long-
est and dreariest day in the week,
Why is it that the average man will
economize on his luxuries rather than,
on his necessities?
m
-•AS
H
M
There are lots of people who speak
twice before they think.
All the world’s a stage, and most of
us think we are stars.
mm
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Morton, George M. The Cumby Rustler. (Cumby, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 42, Ed. 1 Friday, January 15, 1915, newspaper, January 15, 1915; Cumby, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth770570/m1/3/?q=%22%22~1: accessed July 11, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Hopkins County Genealogical Society.