. THE CENTRE REPORTER, CENTRE HALL, PA. i I Four Strands of String Make Rug A durable scatter rug in cotton —quick to do, inexpensive, sturdy, colorful. It's made of four strands worked together forming a stout “thread.” Made in three colors, you can have gay rugs for Winter —rugs that will fit the coloring of your rooms exactly. Crochet the medallions one at a time, some plain, some figured, and join them for this stunning diamond design. stitches used; material require- ments; a photograph of the medal- lion; color suggestions. cents in stamps or coins (coins preferred) to The Sewing Circle, Household Arts Dept, Please write your name, IM FEELING M FINE THIS MORNING -= FREE FROM THAT THROBBING HEADACHE AND READY FOR © Alan Le May WNU Service CHAPTER XI-—Continued me ee Too much long riding alone—espe- cially when it was mixed up with the night riders’ long rope— could do queer things to a man whose head wasn’t too strong in the first place. Lon Magoon, half out- law, half sneak-thief, all coyote, might have turned at last into some- thing which must be destroyed at sight, without hesitation. Then he walked to the dead horse and roughly verified the angle of the shot; then turned and began to climb the canyon slope. “Billy, come back! You can’t—"' “You stay down,’ he ordered her savagely. “Or by God, I'll tie you down with my pigging-string!”’ It would have been easy then to with an ambushed man. Al- position, he searched those upper slopes, backward, forward, and all—to find the broken country emp- ty and silent, with nothing in it to In the end he could only go back to the girl with no result to show, and no assurance as to what was ahead. He would not have been sur- prised, when he turned his back on from a place where no one was, “No catchum,”” he told Marian. No use He put himself between her “It's a long walk “That's my fault. I'm not used to this stuff, “Because it was 1,” she said with “We'd better get going, I think.” “We can’t go on? And get." “That must have been the man that killed your She drew a deep breath, and stood up. For a moment she looked all Then suddenly he saw All people who suffer occasionally from headaches ought to know this way to quick relief. At the first sign of such pain, take two Bayer Aspirin tablets with a half glass of water. Some- times if the pain is more severe, a second dose is necessary later, ac- cording to directions. If headaches keep coming back we advise you to see your own physician. He will look for the cause in order to correct it. The price now is only 15¢ for twelve tablets or two full dozen for 25 cents — virtually, only a cent apiece. Desolation Never Complete No one is so utterly desolate, but some heart, though unknown, responds unto his own.—Longfel- low. NY NVEB A) A BECAUSE BUILDING UP YOUR ALKALINE RESERVE you fo resist colds LUDEN’S A Sure Index of Value He stepped forward in time to steady her with his hands on her arms. And now he found that she was trembling violently, Her face was white, making her eyes look enormous, and very dark. ‘‘Billy— I'm afraid—'"' She sat down on the rock again, as if her knees would not hold her up. ‘No more danger, child. over, and he's gone.” “But who could it be? Why should he want to—hurt me?" “I—1 don't know that. I can't imagine any living thing wanting to I swear, by la Madre de Dios!—he'll pay for it if I live to find him. Now don’t you be afraid It's all over, for now." The tears began to roll down her and she hid them with her It's all pocket gully at the foot of the pre- cipitous north slope. When he had made sure that searching lead could not reach them here, he got the blanket from her dead pony, and spread it for her to rest upon; and gathered bits of dead brush to build “Striking fire kind of apologized. ‘But you're plenty safe if you stay close under the rock split. Now you take it easy. We'll rest here an hour or so; then we'll go back.” Marian drew up her knees, and hid her eyes against them. One of her hands reached out to him uncer- tainly, and he took it. Her fingers were moist and cold, with a tremor in them; he warmed them between his hands, noticing how huge his hands were made to look by her slim fingers. Presently she looked up, shook her head sharply, and drew away her hand. “I'm all right now. Did you ever see such silliness?” “Rest easy. We've got lots of time.” The dusk had closed more rapidly at the last, and little light was left in the sky; but a moon was rising behind a high point of rocks, sil houetting a crag that looked like a it. This isn't right. You ought to be able to lie by your fire and smell pine timber. And that crick out there ought to have water running in it. You sit and listen to running water, and pretty soon you get to hear voices in it; sometimes you lie awake for hours trying to get what they say. But what's more to the point, there's likewise trout in the water. There ought to be a nice pan of trout frying, here on the fire." “You fit with things like that, you know. As if you were made out of them." He said, “A half hour's rest in the rocks, with a long, long walk ahead-—this is about as close as peo- ple get to the way they want things, I suppose.”’ “It's my fault, Billy. If I hadn't been so stubborn you wouldn't have lost your horse; you'd have gone on through.” *“Shucks, now!" She was silent, and they sat look- ing into the fire. The smell of au- tumn was cool and clean in the air, across the dry sage; and the red- gold moon faintly mellowed the chill of darkness on the gaunt hills, so that they sat here in unreality, as if in a dream. “Some places,’ he said, ‘‘they call that a harvest moon; the Indians call it the hunting moon, and they used to make smoke-medicines by i$" “What do you call it?" “Well—sometimes we call it a coyote moon. Because it puts a “Well, You See—"" She Met His Eyes Again—""1 Win." kind of singing craze on the coyotes. They gather around on hill tops, seems like, and sing their hearts out, as if it drove them wild crazy, some way. Listen.” Far off, so faint a whisper that it seemed half imagined, they could hear now a queer high crooning, full of an interwoven yapping and trilling, like nothing else on earth. “It sounds,” Marian said, “as if there were 40 or 50 of them-—sitting somewhere on a mountain in a ring." “Two,” he told her. off this time of year.” “Two,” she repeated. “Then that's why there's something more than moon madness in that sing- ing.” He knew that they should be start ing the long return, but he could not bring himself to say so. The thing that had brought them together again—the disaster to Horse Dunn and the 94-had nearly run its course. And he knew that it was a good thing for him that it had. Al- ready he had lived under the same roof with Marian too long for his own good. He no longer had any hope that he could forget her; she would always be in the back of his mind some place, waiting to come real close to him in his dreams. He supposed he would have to learn to live with those dreams. To sit with her now, far out and alone beside the little fire was itself an unreal and precious thing, now that he no longer fought against it. A quiet peace had come upon this place; or something as near peace as he ever knew any more. She was vary near to him, so near that their shoulders did not touch, it seemed to him that could feel her warmth; and her hair, with the firelight in it, was a warm smoky mist, shot with gold, “They pair eg i bf ie f : i : fii i : 2 i LH 3 sf shadows under the “I just pooling long lashes of her steady eyes. thought of something." “What was it?” ““This—isn’t it kind of funny?-— this is exactly the situation we were speaking of the other day.” He was puzzled. “When was this?’ “In Inspiration.” For a moment he didn't get it. Then it came back to him in a rush —the blast of sun upon the dusty street, the atmosphere of silent, waiting hostility, the groups of spurred and booted men in door- ways, watching without seeming to watch; and he had stood talking to Marian across the door of a car, not thinking about what was ahead. * ‘If you and I were set afoot,’ "’ she quoted, ‘* ‘some place far off in the mountains at night, with only one blanket between us—'" He was resting perfectly still on one elbow, looking at the fire; but he could feel her eyes, so near his face, watching him under her lashes. And behind her eyes he supposed she was laughing at him. “1 was right,” she said. “You didn't know it then, but you can see it now. You see—it seems a good deal different, now that we're really here." “Does it?" he said without ex- pression. He got up with a sort of stiff, slow leisure, for the little fire was burning low. He went be- yond the fire, squatted on one heel beside it, and fed it pieces of stick. “You see, 1 know you, Billy. Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself." Her eyes wavered and drifted out toward the low young stars. ‘I can remember when 1 was afraid of you. If we had been out here then—two years ago-—1 would have wanted nothing so much as to get back among other people. That's all gone, now." He looked at her. She had never seemed more lovely, more human, more elementally desirable than she locked now, a tired girl in cow- country work clothes, slim and lazy, relaxed by the little fire as if she had never known any other resting place in her life. Her face was quiet, almost grave; but though her eyes looked drowsy there was a little gleam in them that did not come from the flame in front: a small provocative glimmer of fire within, which he had seen in her eyes only two or three times in his life—and never before the last two or three days. steady and masked within, hers seeming to laugh at him a little, half veiled by her lashes. “1 said,’ she reminded him, ‘that if we were-—in a situation like this, to worry about, nothing at all. And you said, if I thought that I was a fool. Well, you see—"' she met his eyes again—*"1 win." Still her eyes held, and he could not understand why hers did not drop. “I can’t believe, hardly,” he said, “that you have any idea what sort of thing you're talking about.” She smiled. ‘You think I don't? That's because western men are certainly the most conventional peo- ple in the world." Suddenly he angered. He had not brought her here of his own will, nor set them afoot, nor wished to rest here with her. He would not even have been on her range, or within a day's ride of it, if her in- terests had not drawn him in and held him. She had made her de- cisions in regard to him long ago, and to change them he had spent his every resource without any ef- fect. And now, at the last—it amused her to torment him. It seemed to him that there was a capricious she-devil in that girl— perhaps in all women, given op- portunity. “You see, I know you,” she was saying again. The masks behind his eyes dropped away, and though his face hardly changed his eyes reddened, seeming to smoke with an angry self had lighted that fire, long ago. lentlessly, making him rich; it could life—or it could break him again, and drive him up and down the world. Suddenly he did not know whether he loved or hated this girl. gave you in Inspiration,” he said, his words almost inaudible, against the stillness of the night. “If you think that, you're a little fool.” Still she met his eyes, so long, so steadily, so knowingly that he won- dered for an instant what was hap- pening, was going to happen, there under the coyote moon, Then he saw her face change, 80 that she was suddenly pale, and the unreadable light in her eyes went out, and she was like a little girl. Abruptly she pressed her face hard into her hands. He made his voice as hard and cold as the rocks that hung over them. ‘Now what?” She answered in a muffled voice, “1 was wrong—lI am afraid. I-I fail every one . first time. A black shape lay be- side the empty dust of the stream, like a great black bottle overturned -—the carcass of Marian's horse. Suddenly the girl turned side- ways, and dropped her head in her arms upon the blanket. She began to cry, terribly, silently except for the choke of her breath. He sat down against a rock and waited. The gaunt, dead rock-hills leaned over them sadly cold and silent, blackened by the twisted ghost shapes of the parched brush. And the coyote moon was pale and old, no longer golden, but greenish, like phosphorus rubbed on a dead and frozen face. Once she said, “But it's your fault, too—that I fail—your fault as much as my own." His answer was perfectly honest “I don’t know what you mean.” CHAPTER XII It was impossible for him to sit waiting . for her weeping to stop, while her slim body shook con- vulsively with her effort to suppress lably in her throat. Her tumbled hair made her seem a child; he had never seen her look so small, so fragilely made. And he thought he had never in his life seen anything so pitifully in need of comforting He swore under his breath and got to his feet, For a few moments he stood over her, watching the movement of the firelight in her hair. He could hard- ly prevent himself from touching her; almost he stooped and picked her up in his arms. But he was telling himself that that was the last thing she wanted. He walked out a little way into the dark, and stood listening to the night sion which he had heard. It seemed to him now that what he had heard was unquestionably the sound of a gun-—perhaps a gun fired near the forgotten miner's shanty at the up- per end of the gulch; but what he could not imagine was who could have fired it. He had assumed that it was Lon Magoon who had killed Marian's pony; but now he saw that something was wrong. If Magoon had fired upon Marian Dunn and killed her horse he would not have gone to the cabin at the head of the gulch, but would have put long coun- try between himself and them. Therefore two men, not one, must be prowling these hills. He thought of Coffee's theory that there had been a third man at Short Crick— and was worse puzzled than before. (TO BE CONTINUED) ty, writes Annabella Neusbaum in Nature Magazine. When the azale- as, evergreen shrubs of delicate foliage, burst their buds, masses of flowers cover the bush until, its fo- find that Francois Ludgere Diard, native Mobilian and direct de- scendant of one of the original set- tlers, returned to France to visit relatives in Toulouse. At the time of his visit the azaleas of southern France were blooming. He was so diameter of 100 feet. Now they are all along the Gulf Coast from to Florida, up the Atlantic seaboard to South Carolina. Death of President Garfield President Garfield was shot on July 2, 1881, by Charles Jules Gu teau, and died at Elberon. N J, on September 19, of the same year. & Quickly Gets Around A rumor may not have a leg to stand on, yet how swiftly it travels, Some stones that don’t roll, don't accumulate moss. They get buried in the mud. All the ladders of success have You have to be prepared for that. If one must be homely why can’t Things we'd like to know. are lawyers’ briefs? Why arguments called There were careless drivers 30 but the horses had A man deserves praise for “do- ing what he ought,” because it is Silence doesn’t always mean that your adversary in argument Perhaps men who are ‘“‘strong and silent’ are not particularly interested in hearing what other people have to say, either, Is Your Danger Signal No matter how many medicines you have tried for your cough, chest cold, or bronchial frritation, you can relief now with Creomulsion. rious trouble may be brewing and you cannot afford to take a chance with any remedy less potent than Creomulsion, which goes right to the seat of the trouble and aids na ture to soothe and heal the inflamed mucous membranes and to loosen and expel the germ-laden phl __ Even if other remedies have { don't be discouraged, try Creomul- sion. Your druggist is authorized to refund your money if you are not thoroughly satisfied with the bene- fits obtained from the very first bottle. Creomulsion is one word—not two, and it has no hyphen in it. Ask for it plainly, see that the name on the bottle is Creomulsion, and you'll get the genuine product and the re you want. (Adv) Self-Mastery I will be lord ove rmyself. Ng one who cannot himself is worthy to rule, he can rule. —Goethe. To Women: If you suffer every month you owe it to yourself to take note of Cardul and find out whether it will benefit you. Functional pains o have, in many, many c eased by Cardul. And wi nutrition (poor nourishment) taken away women's strength, dul has been found to increas appetite, improve digestion an way t »iild up iral resistane 5 . {Where Car maete masier and only nounced “"Card-ui.”) In Our Need Just to realize that there are friends in the world who care is a great help.—Sir Wilfred Grenfell. MALARIA in three days COLDS first da LIQUID, TABLETS Plenty and Want If there is too much rice in the kitchen, there are starving people on the road.—Mencius. habits can make! To keep food wastes soft and moving, many doctors recommend Nujol. INSIST ON GENUINE NUJOL Cope. 1987, Blane Joe. Yh 41s [0 of Health Don’t Neglect Them!
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