6
7 SERIAL y
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I LANGFORD]
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= THREE =
BARS 4)
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I KATE AND VIRGIL D. BOYLES I
(Copyritfbt by A. (.'• Mct-lurtf 6c Co., IVU7.)
SYNOPSIS.
Cattle thieves despoiling ranches of
South Dakota. George Williston, small
ranchman, runs into rendezvous of
thieves on islan<l In Missouri river. They
.have stolen cattle from Three Bar ranch.
Landlord visits Williston anil his daugh
ter and Williston reports what he has
•#een to Langford. who determines to rid
country of thieves. Jesse Black heads out
laws. Langford falls in love with Willis
ton's daughter, but does not tell her so.
Louise Dale, court stenographer, and
niece of Judge Dale, visits Keinah at re
■quest of county attorney, Gordon, to take
'testimony in preliminary hearing. Gordon
"falls in love with her. After preliminary
•examination Williston's home is attacked
and defended by his daughter and him
self. Outlaws fire building just as Lang
ford and his cowboys arrive. Outlaws
carry oft' Williston but Lingford rescues
•the daughter. Without Williston evidence
against Black is meager, and rase seems
to Vie going against the state. Gordon
takes a night ride and finds Williston,
■who has escaped from captors. The
■courthouse at Keinah burns at night. ■
Williston holds a tea party in his room
following courthouse llr", and Mary Wll-
Islon and Louise Dale attend. Court con
venes in 'the church, and Williston's tes
timony is introduced by Gordon. Black,
«eeing his case lost, makes break for lib
erty, and escapes. Louise from her hotel
room In the night sees a man in the act
of shooting Gordon through the window
ot Ills room across the street. She arouses
Mary who shoots at the would-be assas
sin, but too late, for Gordon is seriously
•wounded. While they are attending Gor
■don it is learned that Williston has also
twen shot. Summer lias come and Jesse
Ulack is still a fugitive from justice. Paul
Langford learns that the outlaw has been
'hiding on the island all the time. He se
cures a bench warrant from Judge Dale
•and heads a brave posse to capture Black.
The posse fords the river and routs the
outlaw from his shanty.
CHAPTER XXl.—Continued.
Jim slowly and thoughtfully slipped
'his revolver into its holster and dis
mounted. Langford, too, sprang light
ly from his saddle.
Black had been waiting for this. His
trained ear had no sooner caught the
soft rubbing sound of the pistol slip
ping into Its leathern case than he
leaped to his feet and stretched out
the crumpled arm with its deadly
•weapon pointing straight at the heart
of Langford of the Three Bars.
"Now, damn you, we're quits!" he
cried, hoarsely.
There was not time for Jim to draw,
tout, agile as a cat, he threw himself
against Black's arm and the bullet
went wild. For a moment the advant
age was his, and he wrested the
weapon from Black's hand. It fell to
the ground. The two men grappled.
The struggle was short and fierce.
Each strove with all the strength of
his concentrated hate to keep the
other's hand from his belt.
When the feet of the wrestlers left
the fallen weapon free, Langford, who
\)id been waiting for this opportunity,
%rang forward and seized it with a
thrill of satisfaction. Command of the
situation was once more his. But the
revolver was empty, and he turned to
fhrow himself into the struggle empty
handed. Jim would thus be given a
chance to draw.
At that moment Black twisted his
arm free and his hand dropped like a
flash to his belt, where there was a
revolver that was loaded. Jim hugged
him closely, but it was of no use. The
bullet tore its cruel way through his
aide. His arms relaxed their hold —he
slipped—slowly—down—down. Black
shook himself from of him impatiently
and wheeled to meet his great enemy.
"Quits at last!" he said, with an
agly smile.
Quits indeed! For Jim, raising him
self slightly, was able to draw at last;
and even as he spoke, the outlaw fell.
"Jim, my boy," said Langford, huski
ly. He was kneeling, Jim's head in his
arms.
"Well, boss," said Jim, trying to
smile. His eyes were clear.
"It was my affair, Jim, you ought
not to have done it," said Langford,
brokenly.
"It's all right—boss—don't you wor
ry—l saw you—in the hall that night.
You are—the boss. Tell Mary so. Tell
her I was—glad—to go—so you could
goto her —and it would be —all right.
She—loves you—boss—you needn't be
afraid."
"Jim, I cannot bear it; I must go in
your stead."
"To Mary—yes." His voice sank
lower and lower. An added paleness
stole over his face, but his eyes looked
into Langford's serenely, almost hap
pily.
"Go —to Mary in my stead—boss,"
he whispered. "Tell her Jim gave his
boss —to her—when he had to go—l
used to think it was 'Mouse-hair'—l
am glad it is—Mary—tell her good-bye
—tell her the Three Bars wouldn't be
the same to Jim with a woman in it
anyway—tell her "
And with a sigh Jim died.
CHAPTER XXil.
The Party at the Lazy 8.
Mary stared thoughtfully into the
mirror. It was a better one than the
sliver into which she had looked more
than a year before, when Paul Lang
>etl came riding over the plains to the
Lazy S. A better house had risen from
the ashes of the homestead laid wasle '
by the cattle rustlers. Affairs were ;
well with George Williston now that
the hand of no man was against him-
He prospered.
Louise stepped to the door.
"I am in despair, Mary," she said
whimsically. "Mrs. White has ordered
me out of the kitchen. What do you
think of that?'
"Louise! Did you really have the
hardihood to presume to encroach on
Mother White's preserves—you — a
mere bride of five months' standing?
You should be grateful she didn't take
the broom to you."
"She can cook," said Louise laugh
ing. "I admit that. I only offered to
peel potatoes. When one stops to con
sider that the whole county is coming
to the "house-warming" of the Lazy
S, one can't help being worried about
potatoes and such minor things.'
"Do you think the whole county Is
coming, Louise?" asked Mary.
"Of course," said Louise Gordon,
positively, slipping away again. She
was a welcome guest at the ranch, and
her heart was in the success of to
night's party.
Mary had dressed early. As hostess,
she had laid aside her short skirt,
leather leggings, and other boyish "fix
ings" which she usually assumed for
better ease in her life of riding. She
was clad simply in a long black skirt
and white shirt-waist. Her hair was
coiled in thick braids about her well
shaped head, lending her a most be
coming stateliness.
Would Paul Langford come? He had
been bidden. Her father could not
know that he would not care to come.
Her father did not know that she had
sent Langford away that long-ago
night in December and that he had
not come back —at least to her. Natur
ally, he had been bidden first to
George Williston's "house-warming."
The men of the Three Bars and of the
Lazy S were tried friends —but he
would not care to come.
Listen! Some one was coming. It
was much too soon for guests. The
early October twilight was only now
creeping softly over the landscape. It
was a still evening. She heard dis
tinctly the rhythmical pound of hoof
beats on the hardened trail. Would
the rider goon to Kemah, or would
ho turn in at the Lazy S?
"Hello, the house!" hailed the horse
man, cherrily, drawing rein at the
very door. "Hello, within!"
The visitor threw wide the door,
and Williston's voice called cordially:
"Come in, come in, Langford! I am
glad you came early."
"Will you send Mary out, Willis
ton? I need your chore boy to help
me water Sade here."
The voice was merry? but there
a vibrant tone in it that made the
listening girl tremble a little. Lang
ford never waited for opportunities.
He made them.
Mary came to the door with quiet
self-cmposure. She had known from
the first the stranger was Langford.
F 7\77Z 71
"I Love You," He Said.
How like the scene of a summer's
day more than a year past; but how
far sweeter the maid —how much
more it meant to the man now than
then!
"Father, show Mr. Langford in,"
she said, smiling a welcome. "I shall
be glad to take Sade to the spring."
She took hold of the bridle rein
trailing to the ground. Langford
leaped lightly from his saddle.
"I said 'help me,'" he corrected.
"The spring is down there," she di
rected. "I think you know the way."
She turned to enter the house.
For an instant, Langford hesitated.
A shadow fell across his face.
"I want you to come, Mary," he
said, simply. "It is only hospitable,
you know."
"Oh, if you put it in that way—,"
she started gayly down the path.
He followed her more slowly. A
young moon hung in the western
sky. The air was crisp with the com
ing fTOSt. The path was strewn with
dead Cottonwood leaves which rustled
dryly under their feet.
At the spring, shadowed by the
biggest cottonwood, she waited for
him.
"I wish my father would cut down
that tree," she said, shivering.
"You are cold," he said. His voice
was not quite steady. He took off his
coat and wrapped it around her,
despite her protests. He wanted to
hold her then, but he did not, though
the touch of her sent the blood bound
ing riotously through his veins.
"You shall wear the coat. I —do not
want you togo in yet.'
"But Sade has finished, and people
will be coming soon."
"I will not keep you long. I want
you to —Mary, my girl, I tried to kill
Black, but—Jim —" his voice choked
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JULY 23, 1908.
a little—"if it hadn't been for Jim,
Black would have killed me. I
thought I could do It. I meant to
havo you. Jim said it was all the
same—his doing it in my stead. I
came to-night to ask you if it is the
same. Is it, Mary?"
She did not answer for a little
while. How still a night it was!
Lights twinkled from the windows of
"It is the same," she said at last,
brokenly.
Her eyes were heavy with unshed
tears. "But I never meant it, Paul. I
was wild that night, but I never meant
that you or —Jim should take life or
—or —give yours. I never meant it!"
His heart leaped, but he did not
touch her.
"Do you love me?" he asked.
She turned restlessly toward the
house.
"My father will be wanting me," she
said. "I must go."
"You shall not go until you have
told me," he said. "You must tell me.
You never have, you know. Do you
love me?''
"You have not told me, either," she
resisted. "You are not fair."
He laughed under his breath, then
bent his sunny head —close.
"Have you forgotten so soon?" he
whispered.
Suddenly ho caught her to him
strongly, as was his way.
"I will tell you again," he said, soft
ly. "I love you, my girl, do you hear?
There is no one but you in all the
world."
The fair head bent closer and closer,
then he kissed her —the little man
coated figure in his arms.
"I love you," he said.
She trembled in his embrace. He
kissed her again.
"I love you," he repeated.
She hid her face on his breast. He
lifted it gently.
"I tell you—l love you," he said.
He placed her arms around his neek.
She pressed her lips to his, once, soft
ly-
"l love you," she whispered.
"My girl, my girl!" he said in an
swer. The confession was far sweeter
than he had ever dreamed. He held
her cheek pressed close to his for a
long moment.
"The Three Bars is waiting for Its
mistress," he said at last, exultantly.
"A mistress and a new foreman all at
once—the boys will have to step live
ly."
"A new foreman?" asked Mary in
surprise. "I did not know you had a
new foreman."
"I shall have one in a month," he
said, smilingly. "By that time George
Williston will have sold the Lazy S
for good money, invested the proceeds
in cattle, turned the whole bunch into
range with the Three Gars herds, and
on Nov. 1 he will take charge of the
wordly affairs of one Paul Langford
and his wife of the Three Bars."
"Really, Paul?" The brown eyes
shone with pleasure.
"Really, Mary."
"Has my father consented?"
"No, but he will when he finds I
cannot do without him and when —I
marry his daughter."
Hoof-beats on the sod! The guests
were coming at last. The beats rang
nearer and nearer. From Kemah,
from the Three Bars trail, from across
country, they were coming. All the
neighborhood ranchmen and home
steaders with their families and all
the available cowboys had been bidden
to the frolic. The stableyard was
filling. Hearty greetings, loud talking
and laughter floated out on the still
air.
Laughing like children caught in a
prank the two at the spring clasped
hands and ran swiftly to the house.
Breathless but radiant, Mary came
forward to greet her guests while
Langford slipped away to put up Sade.
The revel was at it 3 highest. Mary
and Louise were distributing good
things to eat and drink to the hungry
cowmen. The rooms were so crowded
many stood without looking In at the
doors and windows. The fragrance of
hot coffee drifted In from the kitchen.
Langford stood up. A suSden quiet
fell upon the people.
"Friends and neighbors," he said,
"shall we drink to the prosperity of
the Lazy S, the health and happiness
of its master and its mistress?"
The health was drunk with cheers
and noisy congralulatlons. Conversa
tion began again, but Langford still
stood.
"Friends and neighbors," he said
again. His voice was grave. "Let us
drink toone —not with us to-night—a
brave man—" in spite of himself his
voice broke —"let us drink to the mem
ory of Jim Munson." •
Silently all rose and drank. They
were rough men and women, most of
them, but they were a people who held
personal bravery among the virtues.
Many stood with dimmed eyes, pictur
ing that final scene on the island In
which a brave man's life had closed.
Few there would soon forget Jim
Munson, cow-puncher of the Three
Bars.
There was yet another toast Lang
ford was to propose to-night. Now
was the opportune time. Jim would
have wished it so. It was fitting that
this toast follow Jim's —it was Jim
who had made it possible that it be
given. He turned to Mary and touched
her lightly on the shoulder.
"Will you come, Mary?" he said.
She went with him, wonderingly. He
led her to the center of the room.
His arm fell gently over her shoul
ders. Her cheeks flushed with the
sudden knowledge of what was com
ing, but she looked at him with per
fect trust and unquestioning love.
"Friends and neighbors," his voice
rang out so that all might hear, "I
ask you to drink to the health and
happiness of the future mistress of the
Three liars!"
THJt) END.
GOOD SOIL.
It Can Be Made Out of Poor Soil II
Handled Right.
Good soil is a requisite of success
ful farming. Poor soil can often
be made Rood soil with the right kind
of treatment. In Europe it has been
a common practice to entirely change
the character of a soil. This is not
all done at once, but Is often accom
plished by easy stages.
Thus, a too sandy soil can have its
character modified by the addition ol
clay. But hauling clay is expensive
and it takes a great deal of clay to
modify the condition of the more than
40,000 square feet of land comprised
in an acre.
But the man that owns the land
realizes that this mechanical change
once made is made permanently. He
argues that the treated land is to be
used for all time and that the expense
of changing the land should not all
be charged against a single year.
When a man wfth an acre of sandy
land to modify begins to figure, he
works out the problem something like
this: If a layer of clay two inches
thick is put over an acre of land it
means about 7,000 cubic fe&t of clay
to be shoveled, hauled and spread on
the land. A load of 35 cubic feet of
ciay is a good load to be hauled at one
time, and with that size load it
would take 200 loads to get the clay
onto the land. That looks like a co
lossal task. But what is an acre of
good land worth if it is located just
right?
We have seen sandy acres un
cultivated because they did not con
tain enough clay to render them
profitable for farming purposes, while
they were so located as to be very
valuable for intensive purposes if
properly ameliorated.
A little improvement each year will
in the course of many years change
useless soil into good soil, says the
Farmers' Review, and that good soil
for all time, so far as its mechanical
structure is concerned. The plant
food supply and exhaustion is another
question.
Plant food is sometimes taken out
of good soil to such an extent that it
becomes unproductive. But such food
can always be put back at a much
less cost than the value of the same
amount of plant food in the crop in
which it was taken out.
A good soil should be kept good by
being farmed in the most intelligent
manner. If it is poor soil, it should
be made good in the numerous ways
known to science. Our soils need to
be studied to get out of them the best
things that are in them. It should be
remembered that soil is merely the
medium that supports plants and that
this medium can be made to carry
little or much plant food according to
the generosity of the cultivator in
supplying the same.
WAGON END BOARD.
How It Can Be Easily Made in Two
Sections.
To make a breaking end board as
shown in the accompanying illustra
tion, use a board the width and length
of an endgate and wfth a compass
saw cut as shown by the curved line
at A, Band C are hinges which are
placed on the inside of the board so
that the gate opens outward. D
a«d E are the usual cleats fastened
across the ends to strengthen them.
F is a piece of one-eighth by three
fourths-inch strap iron attached with
screws so the tail .piece can be opened
only one way. G is put through a
hole bored at H from the inside and
fastened with screws, while I and J
Mi
D_ * F E
Si I!
Plan of the Breaking End Board.
screw on the outer end. It is not nec
essary to remove the tail screw
entirely to open the gate, says the
Prairie Farmer. So loosen it turn
the button sideways and the gate
will open.
HELPFUL HINTS.
He helps the Lord who helps the
land.
If you taka our advice you will not
try to seed grass with millet.
Wonderful how an acre of good al
falfa does fill up the hay mow.
A western city proposes a fine of
$lO far every chicken allowed to run
at large. What a paradise for garden
lovers!
Cut the oats for hay when the
grain will crush into a milk when
pressed between the two thumb nails.
The beat method of paying for the
farm is to make it productive.
No farmer can estimate his loss
from weeds. They appear on every
band. No crop can be raised where
they grow. Strive for a weedless
crop.
The wheeled hoe saves a great deal
of time in garden work.
A WORRISOME WEED.
It Is an Annual Plant, But Hard ti
Get Rid Of.
The common name is chickweed
The botanical name is Alsine media
In Briton, and Brown's Illustrated
Flora; but in Gray's Manual it is
Stellaria media. It is a pernicious
weed, but so often neglected and omit
ted from lists of troublesome weeds,
probably because of its small size and
inability to prove very destructive to
larger cultivated plants. It is an an
nual plant, and in theory annual plants
can be exterminated in one season
by preventing them from producing a
crop of seeds by which to perpetuate
themselves.
In the case of this plant, however,
the theory is not easily applied, says
Country Gentleman, because of the
peculiar characters of the pest. It
is very hardy, rapid in Its develop
ment, tenacious of life, persistent, and
quite unobtrusive and harmless in ap-
Alsine Media—after Brit ion.
Chickweed.
pearance. Late or autumnal seed
lings live through the winter, and in
regions of mild, open winters they
begin to flower and mature seeds even
in February or March, before we are
likely to think they need attention.
The sample sent has a few dry, empty
seed vessels on it. Others are yet
green and unopened. There are also
flowers and unopened buds, so that
seed production may yet continue a
long time in plants of the same age as
this sample. Indeed, seed production
may continue till freezing weather
stops it in November or December.
If the plants are dug up or plowed
out and left on the ground they are
likely to renew their growth unless
they are putin piles and destroyed,
or unless a prolonged period of dry,
hot weather should deprive them of
life.
Plowing infested fields in fall and
seeding with rye or winter wheat may
help keep it in check, or plowing early
in spring and planting with some crop
which shall receive frequent and thor
ough cultivation will not only destroy
the young seedlings that may spring
up, but will check seed production in
the older plants. Spraying with a solu
tion of sulphate of iron or copperas,
one and one-half to two pounds to a
gallon of water, has been used with
success in subduing this weed. It
should be applied in dry, clear
weather.
CARING FOR FRUITS.
Annual Waste in Orchards Should Be
Prevented.
Very great is the annual loss in the
waste of fruits. It is a common thing
for farmers to say when we try to sell
them a bill of trees: "The ground is
covered with apples now." "I had
bushels of cherries that were never
picked." "My plums rotted on the
trees by thousands."
It is here that the waste is mani
fested; and waste is the cause of
most of our poverty. "Waste not,
want not," is a fine old maxim.
It is not always the sign of a good
farmer to be too busy with corn and
wheat and hogs to take care of the ap
ples, writes Walter S. Smith in In
diana Farmer. Lee McDaniel of my
own neighborhood boasted that he
had never had a visitation of hog chol
era on his farm. He raked up the
fallen apples every morning and
wheeled them out to the hogs. This
was done as long as they dropped off
prematurely. After they matured,
many that fell off were good for use
in some other way; then he assorted
them and gave his hogs only the bad
ones.
This plan worked a double ad
vantage. First, it regulated the natur
al processes of digestion and assimi
lation in the swine. Second, it trans
ported millions of insect eggs away
from their field of michief, and re
duced the amount of damage. Then it
kept the ground clear, so that when
the better class of apples began to
fall they were more easily attended
to. Of course, judgment is required to
know when the fruit will do to pick;
and when it will do, picking should be
gin, thus to put an end to the falling
of the fruit.
If there is a good cushion of grass
for the apples to fall on, many of them
fall without bruising, and are fully
equal to picked apples.
Sorghum as Feed.
Analysis show that considering the
amount of protein and fat contained in
sorghum it is about equal to timothy
hay as feed. In point of the amount of
nitrogen free extract it is about half
as rich in these elements as timothy.
Timothy contains five per cent, pro
tein, 45 per cent, nitrogen free extract
and three per cent, fat Sorghum con
tains 4.5 per cent, protein, 2:5 per cent,
nitrogen free extract aud 3.25 percent.
Cat
PROOF FOR TWO CENTS.
If You Suffer with Youp Kidneys and
Back, Write to This Man.
G. W. Winney, Medina, N. Y„ in
vites kidney sufferers to write to him.
To all who enclose
/y. postage he will re
/ " Y. ply, telling ho w
jj | Doan's Kidney Pills
V ' W cured him after he
fi -.'M had doctored and
VI 112 had been in two dif-
V ferent hospitals for
Ji Jk eighteen months,
■ suffering intense
< * I )a ' n * n hack,
''mfflllWr* lameness, twinges
// when stooping or
lifting, languor, dizzy spells and rheu
matism. "Before I used Doan's Kid
ney Pills," says Mr. Winney, "I
weighed 143. After taking 10 or 12
boxes I weighed 162 and was com
pletely cured."
Sold by all dealers. 50 cents a box.
Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y.
BAD BLUNDER.
Admiring Stranger—What a stun
ning rider! Er —do you think she
would feel hurt if I should toss her a
kiss?
"No, but you might feel hurt, son
ny," replied the big stranger at his
elbow. "That's my wife."
Overlooked.
"I always distrust your judgment for
some reason or other, John."
"Yes, and you have reason to; it
serves me right!"
"Why, I cannot remember you ever
having done anything to justify such
a distrust."
"Have you forgotten that I married
you?"— Houston Post.
Important to Mothers
Examine carefully every bottle of
CASTORIA a safe and sure remedy for
infants and children, and see that it
In Use For Over JJO Years.
The Kind You Have Always Bought.
A Curious Fact.
"Water swells wood."
"It must. I've often noticed that
a novelist will wreck a skiff and then
float enough timber onto the desert
Isle to build a town."
FITS, St. Vitus* Dance nn<l Nervous Diseases per
manently cured bv l>r. K lino's Great Norvo Restorer.
Mend for KiIKK 1*2.00 trial bottle and treatise. Dr.
K. H. Kline, Ld. t 'J3I Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa.
One way to buy experience Is to
speculate in futures.
i AM
A MOTHER
How many American women in
lonely homes to-day long for this
blessing to come into their lives, ana
to be able to utter these words, but
because of s( ne orgairtc derange
ment this happiness is denied them.
Every woman interested in this
subject should know that prepara
tion for healthy maternity is
accomplished by the use of
LYDIA EiPINKHAM'S
VEGETABLE COMPOUND
Mrs. Maggie Gilmer, of West
Union, S. C.,writes to Mrs. Pinkham:
" I was greatly run-down in health
from a weakness peculiar to my sex,
when Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable
Compound was recommended to me. It
not only restored me to perfect health,
but to my delight I am a mother."
Mrs. Josephine Ilall,of Bardstown,
Ky., writes:
" I was a very great sufferer from
female troubles, and my physician failed
to help tne. Lydia E. Pinkham's Vege
table Compound not only restored me
to perfect health, but I am now a proud
mother."
FACTS FOR SICK WOMEN.
For thirty years Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound, made
from roots and herbs, lias been the
standard remedy for female ills,
and has positively cured thousands 01
women who have been troubled with
displacements, inflammation, ulcera
tion, fibroid tumors, irregularities,
periodic pains, backache, that bear
ing-down feeling, flatulency, indiges
tion, dizziness or nervous prostration.
Why don't you try it ?
Mrs. Pinkham invites all sick
women to write her for a<ivicc.
She has guided thousands to
health. Address, Lynn, Mass.
NEW LAW "btalned
by JOHN w. MORRIS.
PENSIONS WaatUngWß, J). 0,