cmt SE nA The Call of hg Cumberlands | If By Charles Nevill Buck With Illustrations from Photographs of Scenes in the Play = Go —— (Copyright, spe3, by W. J. Wan & Col CHAPTER Xiii—Continued. “Dear Samson: The war is on again. Tamarack Spicer killed Jim Asberry, and the Hollmans have killed Tama: rack. Uncle Spicer is shot, but he may get wall, There is nobody to lead the Souths I am trying to hold them down until 1 hear from you. Don't come if you don't want to—but the gun is ready. With love, » “SALLY.” Blowly Samson South came to his feet. His volce was in the dead-level pitch which Wilfred had once before heard. His eyes were as clear and hard as transparent flint “I'm sorry to-be of trouble, George,” he said, quietly. “But you must get me to New York at once—by motor { must take a train south tonight.” “No bad news, | hope,” suggested Lescott. For an Instant Samson forgot his four years of veneer. The century of prenatal barbarism broke out fiercely. He was seeing shings far sway—and forgetting things pear by. His eyes blazed and his fingers twitched “Hell, no!” he exclaimed. "The gar's on, and my hands are freed!” For an instant, as no one spoke, he stood breathing heavily, then, wheel: ing. ruehed toward the house as though just across its threshold lay the fight into which he was aching to hurl himself. CHAPTER XIV. Samson stopped at his studio and threw open an old closet where, from a littered pile of discarded background draperies, canvases and stretchers, he fished out a buried and dust-covered pair of saddiebogs They had long fain there forgotten. but they held the rusty clothes in which he had left Misory Samson had caught the fastest west. bound express on the schedule in thirty-six hours he would be at Hixon There were many things which his brain must attack and digest in these hours He must arrange his plan of action to its minutest detail,” because be would have as litle time for reflec tion, once he had reached his own country. as a wildcat flung into a pack of hounds From the raflroad station to his fiome he must make his way--most probably fight hie way~—through thirty miles of hostile territory, where all the trails were watched. And yet, for the time, all that seemed too remotely unreal to hold his thoughts He took out Sally's letter, and read it once more. He read it mechanically and as a piece of news that had Brought evil tidings. Then, suddenly, another aspect of it struck him-—an as pect to which the shock of its recep tion had until] this tardy moment blinded him The letter was perfectly grammatical and penned In a hand of Copybook rounduoesd and evenness The sddress, the body of the missive and the signature were all in one chi- rography She would not have intrust- ed the writing of this letter to anyone oso Sally had learned to write foreover, at the end were the words, “with love.” It was all plain now. Bally had never repudiated him Bhe was declaring herself true to her mission and her love — "Good God!” groaned the man, in ab fectly bitter selfcontempt. His hand went involuntarily to his cropped head, and dropped with a gesture of self doubting. He looked down at his tan shoes and silk socks. He rolled back fils shirtsleeve and contemplated the forearm that had once been as brown and tough as leather. It was now the arm of a city man, except for the burn ing of one outdoor week. He was returning at the eleventh hour— stripped of the faith of his kinsmen, balfstripped of his faith in himself ff he were to realize the constructive dreams of which he had last night so confidently prattied to Adrienne, he must lead his people from under the blighting shadow of the feud. Ho muet reappear before his kins men as much as possible the boy who bad left them--not the fop with new. fangled affectations. His eyes fell upon the saddlebags upon the floor of the Pullman and he emiled satirically He would like to step from the train at Hixon and walk brazenly through the town In those old clothes, chal fenging every hostile glance. If they shot him down on the streets, as they certainly would do, it would end his questioning and his anguish of dilem ma He would welcome that, but it would, after all, be shirking the lssue He must get out of Hixon and into his own country unrecognized. The lean boy of four years ago was the tomewhat filled-out man now. The one concession that he had made to Parts Hfe was the wearing of a closely cropped mustache. That he still wore ~~had worn it chiefly because he liked fo hear Adrierne’s humorous denuncia- tion of it. He knew that, in his pres ent guise and dress, he bad an exes) fent chance of walking through the streots of Hixon as a stranger. And, after leaving Hixon, there was a mis sion to be performed at Jesse Purvy's store. As he thought of that mission a grim glint came to his pupils All journeys end, and as Samson passed through the tawdry cars of the local train near Hixon he saw several faces which he recognized, but they either eyed him in inexpressive gllence or gave him the greeting of the “fur riner.” As Samson crossed the toll bridge to the town proper he passed two brown-shirted militiamen, lounging on the rail of the middle span. They grinned at him, and, recognizing the outsider from his clothea, one of them commented: “Ain't this the hell of a town?” “It's going to be,” replied Samson, enigmatically, as he went on. Still unrecognized, he hired a horse at the very stable, and for two hours rode in silence, save for the easy creaking of his stirrup leathers and the soft thud of hoofs. The silence soothed him. The brood: ing hills lulled his spirit as a crooning song lulls a fretful child. Mile after milé unrolled forgotten vistas. Some thing deep in himself murmured: “Home!"” It was late afternoon when he saw ahead of him the orchard of Purvy's place, and read on the store wall a little more weather stalned, but other wise unchanged: “Jesse Purvy, General Merchandise.” The porch of the store was empty, and as Samson flung himself from” his saddle there was no one to greet him. This was surprising, since, ordinarily, two or three of Purvy's personal guardsmen loafed at the front to watch the road Just now the guard should logically be doubled. Samson still wore his eastern clothes—{for he want- ed to go through that door unknown. As Samson South he could not cross its threshold either way. But when he stepped up on to the rough porch “The War's On and My Hands Are Freedl” flooring no one challenged his advance. The yard and orchard were quiet from their front fence to the grisly stock ade at the rear, and, wondering at these things, the young man stood for a moment looking about at the after noon peace before he snnounced him self. Yet Samson had not come to the stronghold of his enemy for the pur pose of assassination. There had been another object in his mind-—an utterly mad idea, it is true, yet so bold of conception that it held a ghost of promise. He had meant to go into Jesse Purvy's store and chat artiessly, like some Inquisitive "furriner.” He would ask questions which by thelr very impertinence might be forgiven on the score of a stranger's folly. But, most of all, he wanted to drop the cas ual information, which he should as sume to have heard on the train, that Samson South wae returning, and to mark, on the assassin leader, the effect of the news. In his new codes it was necessary to give at least the rattier's warning before be struck, and he meant to strike. If he were recog nized, well—be shrugged his shoulders But as he stood on the outside, wip ing the perspiration from his forehead, for the ride had been warm, he heard voleew within, They were loud and angry voices. It occurred to him that by remaining where he was he might gain wore Information than by hur rying in “I've done been your executioner for wenty years,” complained a voleo, which Samson at once recognized aa that of Aaron Hollis, the most trusted of Purvy's personal guards. “1 hailn't never laid down oo yo yet Mean’ Jim Asberry killed old Henry South We fald fer his boy, an’ would ‘a got him ef you'd only sald ther word. | went inter Hixon an’ killed Tam'rack Spicer, with soldiers all round me There hain’t no other damn fool in these mountings would ‘a’ took such a long chance e¢s thet. I'm tired of It They're a-goin’ ter git me, an’ | wants ter leave, an’ you won't come clean with the price of a railroad ticket to Oklahoma. Now, damp yere stingy gits you!” “Aaron, you can't scare into doin’ nothin’ 1 ain't aimin’ to do.” ¢ baron of the vendetta spoke In a cold, stoical voice. “I tell ye 1 ain't quite through with ye yet time I'l see that ye get yer ticket.” Then he added, with conciliating soft: ness: “We've been friends a long while. Let's talk this thing over be fore we fall out.” “Thar hain't nothin' to talk over,” stormed Aaron, “Ye're jest tryin’ ter like yer've had me kill them others Hit ain't no use. I've done sent ‘em away. When they gits back hyar, either you'll be in hell, or I'll be on my way outen the mountings.” Samson stood rigid. Here was the confession of one murderer, with no denial from the other. The truce was off. Why should he wait? Cataracts yet he stood there, his hand in his coat pocket, clutching the grip of a maga- zine pistol. Samson South the old, and Samson South the new were writhing In the life-and-death grapple of two codes, ‘Then, before decision came, the heavy fall of a body to the floor. A wildly excited figure came plung: ing through the door, and left hand swept out and seized shoulder in a sudden vise grip. the mountaineer and crouched back with and vicious frenzy. pulled away startled Aaron thrust his cocked rifle close against the stranger's face. its muzzle came the acrid stench of freshly burned powder, road afore I kills ye!” “My name is Samson South” Before the astounded finger on trigger could be pistol spoke from the pocket, and, as though In echo, the rifle blazed, a ttle too late and a shade too high, over b head, as the dead man's Except for those two reports there wae no sound. ticipating an uproar of alarm. he should doubtless his life for both the deaths, would Inevitably and logically tributed fo his agency. But, enough, no clamor arose. side had been mufled, and those out- gide, broken by the did not arouse the be at house, lis on a false alarm. folks” and children remained indoore and they any sounds that might have come from without. Now Samson South down, uninterrupted, on what had been Aaron Hollis as it lay motionless at his fet. There was a powderburned hole in the butternut shirt, and only a slender thread of blood trickled into the dirt-grimed cracks between the planks. Samson turned to the darkened door way. Inside was emptiness, except for the other body, which had crumpled forward and face down across the counter. A glance showed that Jesse Purvy would no more fight back the coming of death, He was quite un- armed Samson paused only for a momen tary survey. His score was clean He would not again have to agonize over the dilemma of old ethics and new Tomorrow the word would spread like his coming had been signalized by these two deaths The fact that he was respomsible for only one—and that in solfdefense-—~would not matter, They would prefer to believe that he kad invaded the store and killed Purvy and that Hollis had fallen io his mas ter's defense at the threshold. Sam. son went out, still meeting no one, and continued his journey Dusk was falling when he hitched his horse in a clump of timber, and, lifting his saddlebags, began climbing to a cabin that sat back in a thicketed cove. He was now well within Bouth territory and the need of masquerade head ended The cabin had not for years been oo cupied Ita roofiree was leaning askew under rotting shingles The doorstep was Ivycovered and the stones of the hearth were broken. But it lay well hidden and would serve his purposes Shortly, a candle fickered inside before a small hand mirror. Scissors and safety razor were for a while busy The man who entered in in peccable clothes emerged fifteen min utes later--transformed. There ap peared under the rising June crescent a smooth-faced native, clad in stained store clothes, with rough woolen socks showing at his brogan tops, and a battered felt hat drawn over his face No one who had known the Samson South of four years ago would fal, to recoguize him now. And the strang est part, he told himself, was that he felt the old Samson. At a point where a hand bridge crossed the skirting creek. the boy dismounted. Ahead of him lay the stile where be had sald goodby to Sally ; He was going to her, and nothing else mattered. He lifted his head and sent out a long, clear whippoorwill call, which quavered on the night much like the other calls in the black hills around him. After a moment he went nearer, in the shadow of a poplar, and re peatea the oall Then the cabin door opened [Its jamb framed a patch of yellow candle light. and, at the center, a slender silhouetted figure, in a fluttering, eager attitude of uncertainty. The figure |at turned silghtly to one side, and, as it in the shadow, once more imitated the bird note, but this time it wae so low and soft that it seemed the voice of a whispering whippoorwill Then, with a sudden glad little ery,’ she came running with her old fleet grace down to the road Samson had vaulted the stile and stood in the full moonlight As he gnaw her coming he stretched out nis arms and his voice b.oke from his throat in a half-boarse, passionate cry: “Sally!” It was the only word he could have epoken just then, but it was all that was necessary. It told her everything For a time there was no speech, but to each of them it seemed that their tumultuous heartbeating must sound above the night music, and the teleg- raphy of heartbeats tells enough But they had much to say to each other, and, finally, Samson broke the silence: “Did ve think 1 wasn't a-coming back, Sally?” he questioned, softly. At moment he had no realization that his tongue had cver fashioned smoother phrases. And she, too, who had been making war on crude idioms, forgot, as she answered: i “Ye done sald ye was comin.” Then | she added an happy lle: “1 kunowed | After a while she drew said, slowly: “Samson, I've done ritiegun ready fer ye need it bad when ye away and kept the old | Ye sald ye'd | come back, an’ She stood there holding it, and her “It's been a lot of comfort to me | because it was yourn. || knew if ye stopped keerin' fer me ve me keep it—an’ as lohg | as 1 had #t 1-7 broke off, and | fingers of one touched the weapon caressingly. Alter a long while the les She hand they found time # wonderful things “1 got your letter,” he sald, seriously “and I came at once.” As he began | ak of concrgle facts be dropped again into ordinary English and did not know that he had manner of speech. For an instant Sally lo his face, then with a she Informed him: “1 can oked up into | sudden laugh, | 1 of hain". ny writing?” say ‘isn't’ insten He held her off at arm's length, her pridefully, but and under his with a sudden diffidence and a shyness of realization, Bhe calico dress, but at her throat was | a soft little bow of ribbon. She was | no longer the totally unself-conscious | wood nymph, though as natural and in- | stinctive as in other daye. Suddenly she drow away from him a little, and | her hands went slowly to her breast and rested there. She was fronting | a great crisis, bat, in the first Bush of joy she had forgotten it She had spent lonely nights struggling for rudi ments: she had sought and fought to refashion herself, so that, if he came, | he need not be ashamed of her, And | now he had come and, with a terrible clarity and distinctness, she realized | how pitifully little she had been able | to accomplish. Would she pass mus ter? B8he stood there before him, frightened, selfconscious and paipl tating. then her voice Clune in A whis | per “Samson, dear, to any promise were 8 ong time back better forget em now and begin all over again’ But again he crushed ber io him | arms and bis voice rose triumphantly: | “Sally. | have oo promises to take | back, and you have made nope that vore 4) I'm oot holdin® you Those things we said not while life lasts!” Her ugh was the delicious musie of happiness “1 don't want to take them back.’ she sald Then, suddenly, she added importantly: “1 wear shoes and stock ings now, and I've been to school a Hit | tle. I'm awfully—awfully ignorant, Samson, but I've started, and | reckon you ean teach me” His voice choked. Then, her hands strayed up, and clasped themselves about his head “Oh, Samson,” someone had struck her, yore ha'r"™ “It will grow again” he laughed But he wished that he had not had to make that excuse Then, being hon est, Ne told her all about Adrienne Les cott—even about how, after he be lieved that he had been outcast by his uncie and herself, he had had his mo ments of doubt. Now that it was all.so clear, now that there could never be doubt. he wanted the woman who had been so true a friend to know the girl whom he loved. He loved them both, but was in love with only one He, wanted to present to Sally the friend § she cried, as though “you've cut who had made Him, and to the friend who had made him the Sally of whom | he was proud He wanted to tell Adrienne that now he could answer’ her question—that each of them meant | to the other exactly the same thing; they were friends of the rarer sori, who had for a little time been in dan. ger of mistaking thelr comradeship for passion As they talked, sitting on the stile, Sally held the rifle across her knees. Bxcopt for their own voices and the soft chorus of night sounds, the hills were wrapped (n silence--a silence as soft as velvet i “1 learned some things down there at school, Samson,” sald the girl, slow. ly, “and | wish--1 wish you didn’t have “Jim Asberry is dead,” said the man “Jim sve dead." She stoppea thers Yet, ber sign completed the sentence as though she had added, “but he was only one of several Your vow went farther” After a moment's pause, Bameon added: “Jesse Purvy's dead.” The girl drew back, with a fright ened gasp. She knew what this meant, or thought she did. “Jesse Purvy!"” she repeated “Oh, Samson, did ye—71" 8he broke off, and covered her face with her hands “No, Sally,” he told her “I didn't have to.” He recited the day's occur: rences, and they sat together on the stile, until the moon had sunk to tue ridge top ® ¢ s % » 3 * Capt, Sidney Callomb, who had been dispatched in command of a militia “I Have No Promises to Take Back” the should have All his quell trouble i rofession martial deepest Were The IITOW ton be had ever known was that which came to him Tamarack Spicer, his prisoner of war and 2 man who had surrendered on the strength of ranty, had been his eyes in ame and mortifics when gsginated Lefore ion, he must too, and it rankled en were not being gen inte, bu end SOMme deeply { a% instre he had the Holimans was seeing things He meant to 12 more impartial (TO BE CONTINUED) “Forlorn Hope,” for Instance. Ma the Meaning With Which It is Credited. ree of rea deal ‘forlorn be term is most ocabulary of war It sly mis i te “lost troop that de troop.” The word “hope” In I phrase is not Cvery about one of the DERE 8 hopes.’ misused in tached meaning end secondarily The word “i represents “verioren lost. A “ver was a detached body of ‘beap.” body of riorn the Dut iloren hoo ch the This » line of bat he to find and eng Teguiar apo them gg the and and though sisteenth ury practice, desperate or, the Englis much the same work is do: is another term of It not mean surrender, but sur in fact, it means the it is from “capitulum” or “heading” (from which is derived our word “chapter”), and a capitulation is a formal treaty of surrender drawn up under a series of headings or chap ters, embodying the terms on each point. “Capitulation” Woman's Logic. You sometimes wonder about the logic of the feminist mind. A man was to meet his wife at her office at one o'clock to take luncheon with her. He was 20 minutes late. She had gone out, He sat down and waited. At 1:30 she arrived. “What are asked “I'm waiting for you.” “Didn't you know | wouldn't come back after I'd given you up and gone out? you doing here?” she You are back now, aren't you?” “Yes, but you might have known that when 1 did como back | would ‘ have had my lunch, and there would be no use in waiting to have it with me." “Well, have you bad it?” “No,"-Denver News. Japanese a Patient People, Impavience among Lhe Japauvse 8a thing you will rarely obeerve as you travel through their strange and beau titul country you yourself, in touring Japan, might upon occasion grow somewhat ime patient, Thire will ati become tha quiet laughing stock-—behind your i ugh the Ttle Japs themselves An hour, or even a day, more or less count, and matters cannot wove any the quicker because ne 8 to irritability, . mi Inne Te, ———— Db. * Pearse LETORP ET AVAL — oe Ports of Owen louse - TE REI, &. RABBINOE WALFES ATTORFEY AV 44W TLE YR te BY Des sven a SARA ———— En aaa LS 5 saens Fes ! Bows wv 5 tw pra BOWES & SER ATTORENTE aT LAY a BELLEFONYE Bs. weasenary ty Ouvie Bowes ¢ O3ve weallation 18 Bugish sad German i ————————— i B SFARGLER ATTCREEY 47-149 SELLEFOFTRS ravines I all he esmr Oosenlatien weglish and Germans Oflos Oribers Bushopyp i i _— i. swmEST Dard ATTORFEY-AT law Pe Bon B BW. corner Blamed two ra Hevtonal Bask Centre Hall, Pa. OAVID RH. KELLER, Cashise Receives Deposite . . . @& Discounts Notes . , - nnd SL YEARS 0, EXPERIENCE Traot Masse Desires CoryRiowTs # & sai? ang Sener ion = spt froe » bom t pol @T IL atoe f wi Handbook on * w is idem ageney [0 Reo ring Pulls Patenis lagen th wn Monn & “ns apiaiad etic: without ehergs ns (De Scientific Smer : A Baridenn tnd wonky EE re] erseimi} re (o vry afi oe ne HUN ito or { ¥ ¥ 5 Allin ibadtiat Jno. F. Gray & Sot i; Bevcepy } Law ant MOOvEd) Control Sixteen of the Largest Fire and Like {osursnce Companies tn the World THE BEST IS THRE CHEAPEST .-. . Ne Bluesed Me Aescampeni 4 Belore mwring rou We sue cost=er of THE HOM3 ae 4 Sesth bhertwech the tenth ond reeabieth rears tore sil preminses peid in - dition to the face of the policy te Loam ow Fieoss Morigage Office ta Crider’s Stone Dutiding BELLEFONTL PA Telephone Counection AA WAAC AAAAA NI GD Bo dh WARDLE soo rARINE. H. GQ. STROHNEIER CENTRE Mall, . Fa, Manufacturer of and Desier in HiGM GRADE ... AONUMENTAL Wow! In all Kinde of Narble am ranite Pant Seg TOW mi Sey i nin. — jOALSBURG TATER} nos EUR PRbARwren Amirali ee wogiig wa ny - entiatw ali Ou has he Ty PE OLD PORT HOTEL aan X KUT Re - Shh a J ily 0 Site AA EE DR. SOL. M. NISSLEY, YETRMINARY SURGEON ao - prey iL: SE eh anew
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers