swiss ———— WNU Service, TREE, Bays Cardul Soon Helped “My mother was such a believer in Cardui that she gave it to me,” writes Mrs, Sam Ferrara, of Hammond, La, “1 was suffering with my back and side. I would get so dizzy 1 could hardly stand and then have a weak feeling in my back. This made me very nervous and I did not rest well at night. I felt better after my first bottle of Cardul. I took two bottles and felt a great deal better. It cer- tainly is a fine medicine.” Successfully used over fifty years, Thousands of women testify Car. dui benefited them. If it does not benefit YOU, consult a physician, CALL FOR ANY OTHERS ————— Motorist—Of course you have ref Applicant—Yes, sir; from the Widow Van Lush, the Widow Van Mush, the Widow Van Slush and Widow Van Kush—I drove for thelr husbands.—Detroit News, Our Own Friends Happiness grows at our own fire sides, and Is not to be picked up In strangers’ gardens—Douglas Jer rold, SYNOPSIS Ben Elllott—from *“Yonder”"-—arrives at the little lumbering town of Tincup accompanied by Don Stuart, old, very sick man, whom he has befriended. He signalizes his coming by defeating Bull Duval, “king of the river,” and town bully, in a log-birling contest. Nicholas Brandon the town's leading citizen, resents Stuart's presence. He tries to force him to leave town and Elliott, resenting the act, knocks him down. Elliott is arrested, He finds a friend in Judge Able Armitage, The judge hires him to run the one lumber camp, the Hoot Owl, that Brandon has not been able to grab. This belongs to Dawn McManus, daughter of Brandon's old partner, who has disappeared with a murder charge hanging over his head, CHAPTER III—Continued ame Without stopping even for his cap Ben stepped out and crossed to the men's camp. He did not burst into the place, but opened the door casually and slipped inside. In the center of the room, close by the heating stove above which socks Pung from drying racks, stood Bull Du- val. His cap was tilted on his head, he leaned backward from his hips, in his uplifted right hand was a quart whisky bottle nearly full and his volce bellowed the words of a woods classic, In the far end of the room a half dozen men were huddled. From sev- eral upper bunks concerned faces watched the Bull. The men were clear- ly afraid, certain that this hilarity was only a prelude to a melee in which heads would be broken and bodies bruised. The swaying of Duval's body, as he moved to the measure of the ballad, brought him facing the doorway. Ben Elliott stepped forward two or three paces and stood watching him. His gaze was steady, and In his eyes danced a warning flame, The Bull broke short his song. “Good day, Mister Elliott!” he sald heavily, in mock respect. “I heerd you was th' new boss at Hoot Owl and likely you're lookin’ fer good men. Here's one, Elliott. Here's th’ best man you'll get a chanct to hire until th' next blue snow!” Ben, heedless of the increased ten- sion which showed on the faces of the onlookers, crossed the floor slowly. “You want to work for me, Duval? he asked. “Think I come over to spark you?” the other countered insolently. “Have a drink!” He extended the bottle, holding it In is great hand, grinning at Ben, “In the first place, 1 don't want to hire you,” Elliott said. “In the second, there's no hooch allowed in this camp.” He snatched the bottle, swung and sent It crashing against the stove. For a brief moment the hiss of its contents against scorching metal had the place while the Bull's head thrust slowly for- ward and his small eyes grew red with rage. His lip drew back, exposing yel- low teeth, “Will you walk out, Duval? Ben asked. "Or do you want me to throw you through the door?” “Throw me out?” Duval cried thick ly. “Throw me out? Why, kid, th’ best day you ever seen you couldn't—" He got just that far lo bis boast His hands had knotted Into great fists, his body swayed, but before he could strike that first blow or fall into that initial clinch or earry out whatever plan of attack had formed in his truec- ulent mind, knuckles bashed into his lips, driving the words back into his teeth, It was a bard blow, with everything Ben Elliott had from knuckles to ankle put behind its drive. The savagery with which he struck threw Ben off his own balance, but hard as he had hit, quick as he had been, the blow was not enough to put Duval down. He closed with a roar, one great arm clamped about Elliott's walst, the other hand smearing across Ellioit's face, shoving Ben's head backward as the fingers sought the eyes. Ben twist. ed away from that menace of gouging, strained against that crushing embrace and struck hastily with both hands But the Bull's chin was safe against his own shoulder, his forehead burrow. ing into Elliott's chest for protection and not until Ben lifted his knee with a drive like that of a piston did Duval let go. He reeled backward then, cursing inarticulately, panting and heaving forward again from his spiked stance on the rough floor as he struck with all his might. His blow went home, a stinging, crushing impact on Ben's cheek bone and Duval's great weight followed, bearing the other to the floor, flat on his back. The Bull spread arms and legs in a smothering sprawl as he went down but before he could pin Ben close and helpless he was wriggling, threshing over, eluding a hand which clawed for his throat, grasping Duval's leg, lifting, straining, finally throwing him off, lurching to his knees and then got to his feet, pitching forward off balance as he ran, and coming to a halt against the bunks, He faced about sharply to see Duval standing, blood on his mouth, bent for. ward, arns hooked and extended, like some great jungle creature stirred to killing fury. Elliott did not try to elude him. With a grunt he charged, head down, one arm before his face, the. other drawn back, and when he struck the sound was like that of a club on a quarter of beef, The blow spun Duval half about and the next rocked him. He grappled for Ben, but Ben was gone, He rushed for Ben but Ben sidestepped and struck Duval as he lurched past, The Bull gave up trying to close. He struck out, now, with renewed sav- agery as they stood toe-to-toe for a moment. He dodged a brace of drives which, It seemed, would have felled a horse, so great was the effort behind them, and then, felnting, sent in a slashing uppercut. The great fist landed squarely on the point of Ben's jaw, lifted him from his feet and sent him reeling, clawing the air, over on his back again, Elliott was dazed by that blow. Jells clanged thunderously in his ears and lights flashed and flickered before his eyes but as he crashed down to the floor Bird-Eye's volce, shrill and frantie, cut through the fog that had folded over him: “Th boots! Joots, yes. Th' boots!” Bull Duval did pot fling himself on his prostrate adversary, this time, Erect, he strode forward two measured paces , . , three, and on the fourth he bent backward from the hips, lifted his right foot and raked it out before him; raked those many splkes In the sole straight at the face of his fallen adversary. But his river boot only swung across the place where a face had been. ripped the skin over the cheek bone; a companion left a bright red Ben had jerked his sideways, moved It that quarter One lone spike trace, inch a mass of raw flesh ribbons, Duval teetered on his left foot, ping for balance and cursing because he bad missed, as Ben, reeling to his feet, shouted: “Keep out! My fight!” He had seen, as he came erect, Bird-Eye Blaine leap for the wood box and grasp the heavy iron poker. “My fight!” he re peated and his hoarse voice was com- manding. Bird-Eye fell back, poker, lips moving. It was Eiliott's fight, Indeed. He had seen many men fight before, had Bird-Eye Blalope; born to a rough life, he had lived it fully. He had seen countless battles but never had he witnessed such a fury as Ben Elliott loosed then. He drove out with both fists, heed- less of defense, blind to Duval's counter offensive. He shouted as he struck. He used a knee to break another hold, he bit when Duval tried to throttle him with the grip of both hands. He danced as the Bull sought to trample clinging © the The Bull Gave Up Trying to Close. his feet with his river calks, and all the time he was striking. Again and again his hard knuckles found their mark. A bench went over as they waltzed into It. Their combined weight, crash- ing against the bunks as Duval tried desperately to clinch again, smashed an upright and sent men in the upper deck scurrying. Dust rose thickly. The sink was ripped from its place as Ben drove the Bull into it with a body blow, and a chair was wrecked as Duval eaught by another punch, went over it backward with a crash, Ben stood still, spread legged, breathing hard, hands swinging loa swift rhythm of rage. “Get up!” he panted. only started!” Duval rolled over, his back to Elliott, and shoved himself to his feet’ Not until he had risen and faced about did the other move. Then he closed with another of those flying rushes, with one drive pinned Duval against the wall, with another sent his head crash ing against the window frame, The Bull gave a bubbling roar and tried to grapple. His hands were struck down, He swung mightily, slow. ly, and missed, and as he went by, off balance, a chopping stroke on the back of the head floored him, Again Elliott waited, “Get up !™ he erled thickly, "Get up, Duval, and take the rest!” “Get up! I've The other started to move, looking over his shoulder with one eye that remained open. He saw a tall, supple young man, hale awry, shirt ripped open from neck to belt, cheek bleeding, Jaws set, stand there swinging one fist as though the knuckles were wild to strike again. He sank back to the floor, shuddering, On that Elliott relaxed and moved close, “Enough?” he asked, sharply, prod- ding the Bull with a toe of his pac. Duval moaned and shook his head He made as If to rise ugain and Ben stepped back, giving him every chance. A mutter arose behind him, ‘Finish—th' ~—!" a man cried But the boss at Hoot Ow! would not do that, He asked no odds, The Bull did not get to his feet. He started to, drew one knee beneath him, heaved and then sank back to a hip. He swore heavily and hung his head, propping his rorso by both great hands spread wide on the floor, “Through, Duval?" Ben asked and it seemed as though his bruised and bat. tered face tried to twist In a grin The other gave no intimation of having heard. "There's more on tap, Or have you got enough?” And then, when no reply came Elliott stooped, grasped the Bull's shirt in his hands and half lifted him. “let go!™ the man blurted. go or I'll" He tried to twist away, tried to strike Ben's legs, but his strength was gone, beaten from his great body, He the floor, river over the boards, straight With one foot Elliott the portal and with a *Let was dragged across boots trailing to the doorwas kicked open ¥ heave flung I Duval, the Tht weup terror, A half hour later Bull Duval, who in the horse trough against the shout. Hrd Eye Biaine that it would be unfit thereafter for his teams to drink from, shoved erect and wiped trembling bis mackinaw, The door of Elliott emerged. ed protests of himself hands on the van opened and He walked straight injuries critically, “Fair jJob"™ he sald, himself, and grinned. “A fair Duval, But remember this: If Job, again, or on any operation where I'm in charge, I'll give you a licking you'll remember I™ The Bull whimpered, I didn't mean no harm," he “1 was drunk.” “No, you weren't drunk. been drunk 1 wouldn't have hit You knew what youn were doing. Duval, why'd you come out here this morning? Who sent yout” Duval looked away. “Nobody,” he sald weakly. drunk. But a man, 1 can than I am.” len shook his head “No use, chum. whined, work Was it Brandon?" “*No"—evasively. “Sure? How much did he give you to come here? roll to do such chorea?” “H—1, he didn't" fighter by a mile or two, Duval was a good guess, wasn't it? were his orders?’ “Well, he said If 1 he'd" “Good! Mine What didn't that That's all I want to know. There's the road. And you ean take this little message with you to Bran- don: Tell him that he needs to send more and better men here the next time, And as for you: I hire no men who can be hired to fight “snother man's battles. Make tracks, Duvall” - - - - » » * It was a week later, Old Don Stuart, propped on pillows in the narrow, cell-like room of Joe Plette's hotel, listened to the colorful account that Bird-Eye Blaine, with many gestures and considerable pro- fanity, rendered for him of what had transpired at Hoot Owl since Ben El liott had taken charge of the opera tion, “ « «+ "nd so he's got th' mill crew a-wurrkin' thelr blessid heads off for him ‘nd 's got thut ragged-pants gang av beet-weeders 'nd hay pitchers thut passes fer a loggin' crew doin’ more'n they've evir done in their lazy loives before 1” “Good,” gasped Stuart feebly and tried to smile. “Good boy. But . . . he's young and . . . alone against Brandon. It'H be , . that hard nut he . . . was lookin' for." “Harrd? Bird-Eye glared at him, “Harrd! Th' harrder they come, th' better pleased he Is! Sure ‘nd he's a glutten fer work, Donny! ’'Na th saints, they have a finger into’ ut, too, him a-comin’ just whin they'd got pore owld Able lleked. I'l be a tough foight or I'm a bad guesser, but d—n me eyes, whut a folghter th’ lad fa!” A restless light appeared In Don's eyes and his thin old hands fidgeted nervously with the blankets, “A tough fight, , . . Oh, he don't know , . . Bird-Eye, what he's up against.” He struggled to sit erect and his eyes shone brightly with an odd sort of desperation. “If Brandon can't , . drive him out , , . one way or another , he'll kill him.” He gasped and swallowed, evidently making a great effort to talk rapidly. ‘I'm a coward, Bird-Eye, . . een 8 d—n coward , , , for years. [I've been ., . , afrald to tell . ,. , while I lived, Now I'm afrald to dle with it on my soul!” He panted and Blaine looked In alarm at his friend as these last words took on significance for him, “Lay back, Donny. Dawn't git yer- self excited, b'y, . » Coward? Naw, ye're no coward!” He grasped the sick man by the shoulders and tried gently to force him back on the pillows but the old fellow resisted, “Can't die, on. . . my Can't soul I . « With It he gasped ani 1] { “Get . . , Paper™ trange ap Bird-Eye stood back, solemn and worried, seratching his head. “Somethin’ troublin’ ye, Donny?" he asked soothingly. The other made a fechle gesture “A man's got . . . to fight fire with fire. Brandon get him... unless he unless . . ." He put #2 hand to his throat and moved his uplifted chin from side to side as though strangling, “Want to write . . Jird-Eye. Get . , . paper. . fire with fire!” This was obviously no whim of a slick His necessity was not clear to Blaine but the other knew old Don conviction man. “Lay back, Donny. Be still, pow! kape quiet!--Saints, but ye mon carryin’ on so, ye do!" He hurried down the stairs, secured materials and, from the table in the little office picked up a mallor der-house catalogue. With these he ascended to the sick room again, taking the steps two at a time, “Here ye are! Book to wroite on, paper, envilope, pencil, I'll sit by ye, Donny.” Stuart did not start to write at once. He sat staring straight before him in quandary, and then lifted his gaze to the little man who stood at his bedside “T'd like to be alone, Bird Eye,” he said In a faint whisper. “I've been alone | . with it so long I think better alone” The other shrugged. TO BE CONTINUED upset a Keeshonden Thought Great Granddaddy of All Poms Except for his silvergray coat of black-tipped bair and his greater size, the Keeshonden too closely resembles the more popular Pomeranian to ques tion their relationship. It is not at all unlikely that he is the great grand- daddy of all Poms, which the Germans prefer to call “toy spitz.” Previous to their reduction to present-day diminuo- tive proportions, the Pom appeared in size more nearly approaching the 18. inch shoulder height of the Keeshon- den, writes an authority In the Loa Angeles Times Both descended from the Siberian strains of northerndogs . . . prick: eared and carrying bushy tails over the back . . . originated In Ger many. The Keeshonden is established as one of that country’s oldest breeds, dating back to the year 1552 Identical are the characteristics of faithfulness, intelligence, watchfulness friendliness to those they love from a dark -masked (but not black) muzzle, and the dark eyes, rimmed with light-colored hair. The tail, car ried In a curl to right or left ever the back, is white tipped. In profile he is a square dog. Hardy and able to withstand all kinds of weather, he readily adapts himself to any environment Scientists Find Fast Way to Relieve a Cold Ache and Discomfort Eased Almost Instantly Now NOTE “DIRECTIONS PICTURES™ The simple method pictured here is the way many doctors now treat colds and the aches and pains colds bring with them! It is recognized as a safe, sure, QUICK way. For it will relieve an ordinary cold almost as fast as you caught it. Ask your doctor about this. 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Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers