» CHAPTER XVIili—Continued. ore] Boe Solomon took the lightning hurlers out of the packs and unwrapped them and tried the springs above the ham- mers, Earlier in the day he had looked to the priming, Solomon gave one to Jack and put the other two In his pockets. Each examined his pls- tols and adjusted them in his belt. They started for the low-lying ridge above the little valley of Rock creek. It was mow quite dark and looking down through the thickets of hem- lock they could see the firelight of the Indians and hear the wash of the creek water. Suddenly a wild whoop- Ing among the red men, savage as the howl of wolves on the trail of a wounded bilson, ran beyond them, far out Into the forest, and sent its echoes travellng from hilltop to mountain side, Then came a sound which no man may hear without getting, as Sol- omon was wont to say, “a scar on his soul which he will carry beyond the last cape.” It was the death cry of a captive, Solomon had heard it be- fore. He knew what it meant. The fire was taking hold and the smoke bad begun to smother him. Those cries were llke the stabbing of a knife and the recollection of them like blood stains. They hurried down the slant, brush- ing through the thicket, the sound of their approach being covered by the appalling cries of the victim and the demon-like tumult of the drunken braves. The two scouts were racked with soul palin as they went on so that they could scarcely hold their peace and keep thelr feet from run- ning. A new sense of the capacity for evil In the heart of man entered the mind of Jack. They had come close to the frightful scene, when suddenly a deep silence fell upon it. Thank God, the victim had gone beyond the reach of pain. Something had hap- pened in his passing—perhaps the sav- ages had thought it a sign from heav- en, For a moment their clamor had ceased. The two scouts could plainly see the poor man behind a red vell of flame, Suddenly the white leader of the ralders approached the pyre, limping on bis wooden sfump, with a stick In his hand, and prodded the face of the victim. It was his last act. Solomon was taking alm. His rifle spoke. Red Snout tumbled for- ward Into the fire. Then what a scur- ry among the Indians! They van- ished and so suddenly that Jack won- dered where they had gone, Solomon stood reloading the rifle barrel he had Just emptied. Then he said: “Come on an’ do as I do.” Solomon ran until they had come near. Then he jumped from tree to tree, stopping at each long enough to survey the ground beyond it. This was what he called “swapping cover.” From behind a tree near the fire he shouted In the Indian tongue: “Red men, you have made the Great Spirit angry, He has sent the son of the thunder to slay you with his lightning.” No truer words had ever laft the lips of man, His hand rose and swung back of his shoulder and shot forward. The round missile galled through the firelight and beyond it and sank into black shadows In the great cavern at Rock creek—a famous camping place in the old time. Then a flash of white light and a roar that shook the hills! A blast of gravel and dust and debris shot upward and pelted down upon the earth, Bits of rock and wood and an Indian's arm and foot fell in the fire light. A number af dusky figures scur- ried out of the mouth of the cavern and ran for {Aeir lives shouting pray- ers to Maniron as they disappeared In the darkness, Solomon pulled the em- bers from around the feet of the vie- tim. “Now, by the good God A'mighty, ‘pears to me we got the skeer shifted 80 the red man’ll be the rabbit fer a while an’ 1 wouldn't wonder,” sald Solomon, as he stood looking down at the scene, “He ain't a-goin’ to like the look o’ a pale face—not over- ly much. Them Injuns that got erway 1 never stop runnin’ till they've reached the middle o' next week.” He seized the foot of Red Snout and pulled his head out of the fire, “You ol' helllon!” Solomon ex- elaimed. “You dog o’ the devil! Tum- bled Into hell whar ye b'long at last, didn’t ye? Jack, you take that luther bucket an’ bring some water out o the creek an’ put out this fire, The ring on this ‘ere ol' wooden leg I# wuth a hundred pounds” Solomon took the hatchet from his Beit and hacked off the end of Red Snout’s wooden leg and put it In his coat pocket, saying: “From now on a white man can walk In the bush without gittin® his bones picked. Injuns Is goin’ to be skeered o' us—a few an’ I wouldn't be surprised.” When Jack came back with the wa- ter, Solomon poured it on the embers and looked at the swollen form which still seemed to be straining at the green withes of moose wood, “Nothin’ kin be done fer him,” sald the old scout. “He's gone erway. 1 tell ye, Jack, It g'in my soul a sweat to hear him dyin” A moment of silence full of the sor- row of the two men followed. Sol omon broke it by saying: “That ‘ere black pill o' mine went right down into the stummick o' the hill an’ give It quite a puke—you hear to me.” They went to the cavern's mouth end looked in. i By IRVING BACHELLER Copyright by Irving Bacheller “They’s an awful mess in thar, I don't keer to see it,” sald Solomon, Near them they discovered a warrior who had crawled out of that death chamber in the rocks, He had been stunned and wounded about the shoul- ders, They helped him to his feet and led him away. He was trembling with fear. Solomon found a pine torch, still burning, near where the fire had been. By (ts light they dressed his wounds—the old scout having with him always a small sur geon's outfit, “Whar is t’ other captive?” he asked in the Indian tongue. “About a mile down the trall. It's a woman and a boy,” sald the warrior, “Take us whar they be,” Solomon commanded, The three started slowly @&own the trail, the warrior leading them, CHAPTER XVIl The Voice of a Woman Sobbing, Over the ridge and more than a mile away was a wet, wild meadow, They found the cow and horses feed- ing on its edge near the trail. The moon, clouded since dark, had come out in the clear mid-heavens and thrown Its light into the high windows of the forest above the ancient thor- oughfare of the Indian, The red guide of the two scouts gave a cail which was quickly answered. A few rods farther on, they saw a pair of eld Indians sitting In blankets near a thicket of black timber. They could hear the voice of a woman sobbing near where they stood, “Womern, don't be skeered o' us— we're friends—we're goin’ to take ye hum,” sald Solomon. "You or’ HELLiON! with a little lad of four asleep In her arms. “Where do ye live?” Solomon asked, “Far south on the shore o' the Mo- hawk,” she answered In 8&8 volce trem bling with emotion. “What's yer name?” “I'm Bill Scott's wife” swered, “Cat's blood and gunpowder!” Rol- omon exclaimed. “I'm Sol Binkus." She knelt before the old scout and kissed his knees and could not speak for the fulness of her heart. Solomun bent over and took the sleeping lad from her arms and held him against his breast, “Don't feel bad.b We're a-goin’ to take keer 0’ you,” sald Solomon. "Ayes, sir, we be! They ain't nobody goin’ to harm ye—nobody at all" There was a note of tenderneds In the voice of the man as he feit the chin of the little lad with his big thumb and finger, “Do ye know what they done with Bill?" the ‘woman asked soon In a pleading volce, The ‘scout swallowédd as his brain began to work on the problem In hand, “Bill broke loose an’ got erway. He's gone,” Solomon answered In a sad volce, “Did they torture him?" “What they done I couldn't jes’ tell ye. But they kin't do no more to him. He's gone” She seemed to sense his meaning and lay crouched upon the ground with her sorrow until Solomon lifted her to her feet and sald: “Look here, little womern, this don't do no good. I'm goin’ to spread my blanket under the pines an' I want ye to lay down with yer boy an’ git some sleep. We got a long trip tomorrer. “Taint so bad as it might be—ye're kind o' lucky a'ter all Is sald an’ done,” he remarked as he covered the woman and the child, The wounded warrior and the old men were not to be found. They had sneaked away Ihto the bush, Jack and Solomon looked about and the latter called but got no answer, “They're skeered cl'ar down to the toe nails,” said Solomon. “They couldn't stan’ it here. A lightnin' thrower Is a few too many. They'd ruther be nigh a rattlesnake.” The scouts had no sleep that night. They sat down by the trail side lean. ing against a log and lighted thelr pipes. “You "member Bill Scott? Solomon su she an- $ “Yes, We spent a night in his house.” “He were a mean cuss, Sold ram to the Injuns. I allus tol’ him it were wrong but—my God A'mighty I—1 nev- er 'spected that the fire dn the water were a goin’ to burn him up sometime, No, sir—I never drcamed he were a goin’ to be punished so—never.” They lay back against the log with thelr one blanket spread and spent the night in a kind of half sleep. Every little®sound was “like a kick in the ribs,” as Solomon put it, and drove them “into the look and listen business.” The woman was often cry- ing out or the cow and horses getting up to feed. “My son, go to sleep,” sald Solomon. “I tell ye there ain't no danger now-— not & bis. I don’t know much but I know Injuns—plenty.” In spite of his knowledge even Bolo- mon himself could not sleep. A little before daylight they arose and began to stir about. “I was Dadly burnt by that fire” Jack whispered. “Inside!” Solomon answered. “So was I. My soul were a-sweatin' all night” The morning was chilly, They gath- ered birch bark and dry pine and soon had a fire going, Solomon stole over to the thicket where the woman and child were lying and returned in a mo- ment. “They're sound asleep,” he sald In a low tone. “We'll let 'em alone” He began to make tea and got out the last of thelr bread and dried meat and bacon. He was frying the latter when he said: “That ‘ere Is a mighty likely wom- ern.” He turned the bacon with kis fork and added: “Turrible purty when she were young. Allus hated the rum business ™ Jack went out on tlie wild meadow and brought In the cow and milked ber, filling a basin and a quart bottle. Solomon went to the thicket and called: “Mis' Bceott!” The woman answered, “Here's a tow'l an’ a lettle jug o soap, Mis’ Scott, Ye kin take the boy come to the fire an’ eat yer break- fuse.” mother was sublime, lifted high In the alr “Whig Scott,” idly with tears In his eyes, “What! ye skeered o' me?" These wor iad as he began to cry: I ain't skeered. “No, sir. I'm a brave man.” tier,” Jack wrote In a letter to the history of that day. of my own childhood. “Solomon held Whig la his lap and the packs over a blanket on one of swales here and there so that we were | able to pass them with little trouble, | } WHEN WINDS ARE FAIR I} THE summer time of life, when the winds are falr, very few of us ure disposed to think about anything except pleasure, It is our turn upon the stage. We are anxious to play our part with magaificent gusto, though we muy be us green as a pair of rustic bumpkins in the art of daneing the stately minuet, present summer-time folk, In Its noise, It movements and not Yet so it Is. ve would ackpowledge It, gether, rieties, In education, we are deficient In many of the finer social arts with which our intimately acquainted, They more particular with formed poelal aillances; brass, even though they been well Introduced, could not those days enter the homes of best people and get a cordial recep- tion. Pedigree and character long count, whom took to he fair for everybody, gardiess of the barometer, Even young men and young women attractive of face and form, with noth. brass and wealth, society cultured people, little towns you will become conscious of a deliclous sweetness In the alr, PD... Through the Glad Eyes of a Woman <> By Jane Doe “LAST HUMAN FRAILTY” OFTEN think,” said a News Eng « minister, “that the last hu man frailty which Christian religion tendency to Well, you know, hepe It will be. I am a great bellever In gossip. (if COUrse, gossip.” minigter's feeling about it, heen ix dearly beloved congregation circulnted the false rumor that ithe reverend gentleman's good lady was a rather badly a baby, To him, as you know, a woman hans died. He séemed to regard the boy “One day when the woman sat by the fire crying, the little lad touched her brow with his hand and sald: “Don't be skeered, mother, brave. [I'll take care o' you. “Solomon came to swhere 1 was breaking some dry sticks for the fre and sald laughingly, as he wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his great right hand: “Did ye ever see sech a gol’ dumm cunnin’ leetle cricket in yer born days —aver? “Always thereafter he referred to the boy as the Little Cricket.” Jack wrote In another of his letters that as they fared along, down to- ward the sown lands of the upper Mo hawk, Solomon began to develop tal ents of which none of his friends had entertained the least suspicion. “He has had a hard life full of fight and peril like most of us who were born in this New World,” the youmg man wrote, “He reminds me of some of the Old Testament heroes, and is pot this land we have traversed like the plains of Mamre? What a gentle creature he might have been If he had had a chance! How long, I wonder, must we be slayers of men? As long, I take It, as there are sav ages against whom we must defend ourselves.” The next morning they met a com: pany of one of the regiments of Gen. eral Herkimer who had gone in pur suit of Red Snout and his followers, learning what had happend to that evil band and its leader the soldiers faced about and escorted Solomon and his party to Oriskany, : (TO BE CONTINUED.) Caution is the purent of safety, I'm “In the ordinary way, grave possibilities of evil, should be altogether ignored. but now more harmless variety that are so re. tire” This niso the minister, I don’t lay any clalns to hamor my- self, which perhaps expiaing why | see the “refreshingly fanny” for un ex-servant. I know one or two domestics who vould make darn good ministeresses, And lots of ministeresses whom 1 tan’t think would be good for aay- thing. I agree with the gentleman, how. ever, that a considerable amount of catty, dangerous, and ll-considered gossip should be Ignored. But 1 don’t want any of us to lose our delight in or taste for It. A wholesome fear of our neighbors’ War is a terrible menace to the are worse. WARM WEATHER FOODS ELATIN desserts, frozen dishes and fruit of all kinds make an, es- peciul appeal to the appetite during the hot, sultry days of late summer, A dessert is not a dish to worry nhout with ice cream to be bought in ull markets and fresh fruits so avail uble, Ments {n large quantity or at every meal are not desired by the average appetite during the warm Weather; eggs, fish, fresh vegetables, fruits and plenty of milk will keep the body in good condition—with very little meat, Fried eggs should never be given fo anyone who has not a good digestion, Soenlled soft-cooked eggs are often which at first cannot be measured or understood, It permeates the homes, the hills, the prim flower gardens, the shaded porches, and gives to life a nobility that neither wealth nor brass can ever hope to acquire, (© by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) rtm Premise e Young Lady Across the Way dhe young udy ucruss the way says | | she weighs 110 pounds In her street i clothes and 105 ad valorem. (© by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) YOU'LL QUIT? By DOUGLAS MALLOCH You think you'll quit. lke The way they speak to people there, You hope another job to strike, Where ev'ryone is always falr, Of course, the hours are rather short, The labor, too, Is rather light; And yet you'd like another sort, A place that's just exactly right. You do not That other job you had before "Was not go bad, nor near as bad As once it seemed. What made yor sore Was all the business that they had They pald you more than others would But often made you work at night; And so you left the place for good To look for one exagtly right. You have another move In mind; Another job you want to get, A place of quite another kind From any you have had as yet, With not so very much to do, Good pay, short hours, and lots of light, A place that's just exactly right, From job to job we often go, These Paradises here below, There's very often something wrong, t guess, with ev'ry job In sight; Perhaps we'll have to get along With one that's not exactly right. The chief doubt. has worries, too, no you And me we never thought sbout, | We' re not entirely perfect, no, To customers perhaps polite; | They keep us on the pay roll, though, Although we're not exactly right, hv MeClgre Newspaper Syndicate y of x lhe Sd & ——————— WHaTauR Soma DO |-T wim Tae Boral jeces, FROG a Te wll, yu Bovis 60 miD RASYMITGM BASES. | #7 A BOMDAE BEE'LL CORE po 7. - 0 lin) a [ ~= gossiping tongues has kept not a Jew of us to the stricter paths of rectitude. Where would we be, 1 wonder, If It | were not for this dread of being | “talked about,” this natural sensitive | ness to the words of scorn and ridi- cule? I don’t want to be rude. but you know as well as I do that some of us would be—wallowing in the mud. No one can stop another from gos | siping, but it Is everyone's duty to | shut up any man or woman who makes | a foul remark or Inference about an | aheent party, whether true or not. But we shall always gossip. Aud we shall always love to, for the very simple reason that we are ail units of this world’s big family, sud | there Isn't, after all, anything more vitally Interesting than any incident, of digestion should never be cooked at the bolling point. Simmering tempera ture cooks eggs well; the yolk will be mealy, the white tender. If four eggs in the shell are to be cooked take a dish holding a little more than four pints; Into four pints of boiling wa- ter drop the four eggs. Cover closely, set aside and keep covered for 30 min: utes if a well-cooked egg Is wanted. If a soft or coddled egg, remove in ‘ten minutes, It is easy to cook new potatoes in their jackets and we may feel we are Justified vhen we know we are save ing valuable minerals which are lost if the potatoes are peeled and boiled, The following Is a good warm-weath- er dish taking the place of ment: Rinktumditty of Cheese. Peel and chop very fine enough white onions to measure a cupful; they should be chopped as fine as pulp, * 77 BLRretS we Pave NO DOsamo®s Too WE: ve STR Beasts Sp Otten BOGES Se SOMONS CS a vu? oF Saat _ ep -\ © TrInomED Tow ¥ WE Va DL Awd «, ¥ J 1) M ~~ Copyright Vf catia BLIST = connected with tat Which is why newspapers are the most popular forms of litemture They are siinply gossip sheets—roe- | ords of the doings of every one nto ing about. But be kind. Never say anything behind anyone | else's hack that you would not ilke gald behind your own. My, how easy It is to write this! 1 dare say If I could have a short. | Netie lifetime I'd commit suicide, And similarly, If I could have a { shorthand report of all the unkind things sald ebout me I'd commit— murder, (© by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Cook them In a pan with enongh but. ter to brown a golden color. Add one and one-half pounds of thinly sliced rich American cheese, one teaspoon ful of salt, two of dry mustard. two tablespoonfuls of worcestershire and one-eighth of a teaspoonful of cayenne. Have ready one cupfu! of sifted toma. toes, add gradually while stirring anti! the cheese is melted, Add quickly two beaten eggs; stir these until barely set and serve on slices of buttered tonst arranged on a large platter. Garnish with shredded cabbage or lettuce cut into strips. Add a little gelatin to ginger ale and mold for dessert. One may make any number of delicious combinations adding bits of orange or other fruits Serve with cream and sugar, Yer Dorie (@. 1924, Western Bewar Newspaper Union.) Makes Tea Suto A tea-maker that Will light a spirit lamp ut # time set as for an alarm lock, and Inter put the tea and holling water into the teapot, is 8 popular ine vention of an English army officer,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers