i
1
;
i, hp prepEfations accordingly.
CHAPTER V.—In Moisson there is
MEYERSDALE COMMERCIAL, THURSDAY, MAY 2, 1929
Adventure
of the Scarlet
Pimpernel
ose Baroness CG
Mi a
Copyright Baroness Orczy
THE STORY
CHAPTER L—The Scarlet Pimper-
nel, known during the French revolu-
tion as the most intrepid adventurer
in Europe, is an Englishman. His
Jdentity is unknown, but in England
‘he is hailed as a hero. In France he
is feared and hated by the terrorists
as a spy, as he has rescued many un-
fortunates from the guillotine and
brought them safely into England. His
recent rescue of the Tournon-d’Agen-
ays makes him the toast of the hour
and he is the topic of conversation at
a party given by Sir Percy Blakeney,
popular London dandy (who is the
Scarlet Pimpernel) and his beautiful
wife, Marguerite. Lady Alicia Nugget
coaxes Sir Andrew Ffoulkes to tell of
the latest adventure of the Scarlet
Pimpernel. :
CHAPTER IL—The failure of Lauzet,
one of the French terrorists, chief of
the section in which the Scarlet Pim-
pernel has recently been operating. to
prevent the escape of the Tournon-4’
Agenays brings the condemnation of
the government upon him, and he plans
with Armand Chauvelin, the bitterest
enemv of the Scarlet Pimpernel, to lay
a trap for the English spy. Chauvelin
has given up a high position to devote
his entire time to the work of cap-
turing English spies operating in
France—in particular, the Scarlet Pim-
pernel.
CHAPTER IIl.—Lauzet causes the
arrest of the Deseze family, father,
mother, and little daughter, on a
charge of treason, and has it noised
about the small city of Moisson, home
of the Deseze family, that the prison-
ers are being taken to Paris under a
feeble escort. In reality six picked
men, armed to the tegth, are to be
concealed in the coach with the pris-
oners. Lauzet and Chauvelin hope to
jure the Scarlet Pimpernel into an at-
tack on the coach and capture him.
The vehicle is driven by Charles-Marie,
a half-wit, who is known to have no
fight in him.
CHAPTER TIV.—The coach deaves
Moisson in a downpour of rain. That
morning the small city is erowded with
farmers and drovers bringing their cat-
tle ‘to market. Chauvelin and Lauzet
make their final dispositions for the
capture of the bold Englishman and
his band. Captain Raffet is in charge
of the party. He expects the attack
to be made in a forest through which
, “a. coachy has to journey, and makes
much sympathy for the Deseze family,
and condemnation for Lauzet. The ru-
mor spreads that Lauzet has arranged
to capture the Scarlet Pimpernel (for
whose arrest a reward of 10,000 livres
has been offered by the government),
and he (Lauzet) will pocket e re-
ward. Feeling that in some way they
have been outwitted by the official, and
that they should share in the reward,
a part of youths, inflamed with wine,
set out in pursuit of the coach. A drov~
er from Alncourt is particularly loud
in his denunciation of Lauzet, and
drives the cart carrying the pursuers.
CHAPTER VI1.—Captain Raffet pro-
ceeds slowly, he and the soldiers in
a high state of tension. Late in the
evening a halt is made. The approach
of a cart apparently filled with royster-
ing youths is~something of a surprise.
Then to Raffet's astonishment, a band
of men whom he recognizes as citizens
of Moisson, attack the soldiers, the
leader shouting that Raffet has cheat-
ed them. The soldiers overcome their
assailants, and Raffet, enraged at the
attack, orders them to be taken back
to the nearest city, prisoners.
CHAPTER VIL—Captain Raffet is
preparing to resume the journey to
Paris when he hears piteous cries and
appeals ior help. The men from Mois-
son tell him they found Chauvelin and
Lauzet on the road, beat them, and
tied them up. It is their cries, Raf-
fet supposes, which he has heard.
Leaving three soldiers to guard the
Deseze family, the captain and the rest
of the troopers hasten to the scene of
the uproar. They find and release the
officials. Chauvelin alone sees in the
incident the work of the Scarlet Pim-
pernel, in fact, is confident he recog-
nized him among the attacking party.
CHAPTER VIIL.—Chauvelin orders
the driver of the cart which had
brought the party from Moisson to be
brought to him. The lout, Charles-
Marie, appears, in a pitiable state of
fear, explaining that he was ordered,
by a “drover from Aincourt,” to leave
the coach and drive the cart back to
Mantes, the “drover™ promising to look
after the horses of the coach.
CHAPTER IX.—Chauvelin realizes
now that he has been outwitted, that
the “drover” is the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Hastening to the coach he finds the
soldiers left as guards tied to trees.
The coach, of course, with the Desezes,
has disappeared. Chauvelin, Lauzet,
and the sorely discomfited Raffet, make
their way to the city of Epone, to find
themselves the laughing stock of the
countryside. The Scarlet Pimpernel
has scored again. A few days later
the coach, with the saddles and bridles
of Raffet’s troopers, which the attack-
ers had carried off, is found abandoned.
Chauvelin realizes that pursuit is
hopeless, the fugitives having a clear
field for their escape to England.
CHAPTER X.-—~In London the prince
of Wales, one of the few who knows
the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel,
recounts the story of the rescue to a
party of his intimates, among them
Sir Percy Blakeney. The latter, how-
ever, affects to see little of the hero-
ic in the adventure, to the indignation
of the ladies, to whom, of ccurse, the
Scarlet Pimpernel is a hero, and even
little Mademoiselle Deseze, pathetically
unconscious of the deep debt of grati-
tude she owes him, joins in the chorus
of feminine reproof, with her “Fie, Sir
Percyl’
CHAPTER III
Enmeshed :
A fortnight later the whole of the
little city of Moisson was in a ferment
owing to the arrest of one of its most
respected tradesmen. Citizen Deseze,
who, anyone would have thought, was
absolutely above suspicion, had been
put to the indignity of a summary
perquisition in his house. He had pro-
tested—as was only natural under the
circumstances—and in consequence of
this moderate protest he had been
dragged before the chief of section dt
Mantes and had to submit to a most
rigorous and most humiliating inter-
rogatory. Nay more! He was de-
tained for two whole days, while his
, invalid wife and pretty little daugh-
ter were well-nigh distraught with
anxiety.
Then, on the top of that, there fol-
lowed another perquisition; just as if
anyone could suspect the Deseze fam-
ily of treason against their country.
They certainly had never been hotly
in favor of the extreme measures
taken by the revolutionary government
—such as the execution of the erst-
while king and of Marie Antoinette,
ci devant queen of France—but Citi-
zen Deseze had always abstained from
politics. He had been wont to say
that God, not men, ruled the destinies
of countries. and that no doubt what
was happening these days in France
occurred by the will of God, or they
could never occur at all. He for his
part was content to sell good vintage
wines from Macon or Nuits, just as
his father had done before him, and
his grandfather before that, for the
house of Deseze, wine merchants of
Moisson, in the department of Seine
et Oise, had been established for three
generations and more, and had always
been a pattern of commercial integrity
and lofty patriotism.
And now these perquisitions! these
detentions! and finally the arrest, not
only of good Citizen Deseze himself
but of his invalid wife and pretty little
daughter. If one dared, one would
protest, call a meeting, anything. It
was almost unbelievable, so unex-
pected was it. What had the Deseze
family done? No one knew. Inquiries
at the commissariat of the section
elicited no information. There were
vague rumors that the poor invalid
citizeness had always remained plous.
She had been taught piety by her
parents, no doubt, and had been
bronght up in a convent school be-
sides. But what would you? Plety
was reckoned a sin these days, and
who would dare protest?
The servants at the substantial
house inhabited by the Deseze family
were speechless with tears. The per-
quisitions, and then the arrest, had
come as a thunderbolt. And now they
were all under orders to quit the house,
for it would be shut up and ultimate-
ly sold for the benefit of the state.
Oh, these were terrible times!
The same tragedy had occurred not
far away from Moisson in the case of
the Tournon-d’Agenays, whom no one
was allowed to call comte and comiesse
these days.
marily - arrested, and were being
‘dragged to Paris for their trial when,
by some unforeseen miracle, they had
peen, rescued and conveyed in safety
to England. No one knew how, nor
who the gallant rescuers were; but
rumors were rife and some were wild.
The superstitious believed in direct
divine interference, though they dared
pot say this openly; but in their
hearts they prayed that God might in-
terfere in the same way on behalf of
good Citizen Deseze and his family.
Poor Hector Deseze himself had not
much hope on that score. He was a
pious man, it is true, but his piety
consisted in resignation to the will of
God. Nor would he have cared much
if God had only chosen to strike at
him; it was the fate of his invalid
wife that wrung his heart, and the
future of his young daughter that ter-
rified him. He had known the citizen
commissary practically “all his life.
Perhaps he had got his head rather
turned through his rapid accession
from his original situation as packer
in the Deseze house of business, with
a bed underneath the counter in the
back shop, to that of chief of section
in the rural division of the depart-
ment of Seine et Oise, with an official
residence in Mantes, a highly im-
portant post, considering its proximity
to Paris. But all the same, Lauzet
was not a bad man, and must have
kept some gratitude in his heart for
all the kindness shown to him by the
Deseze family when he was a lad in
their employ.
But in spite of every appeal Lauzet
remained stony hearted.
«1¢ 1 did anything for you, citizen,
on my own responsibility,” he said to
Deseze during the course of an inter-
rogatory, “I should not only lose my
position but probably my bead into
i the bargain. I have no ill will toward
‘the good of the state.
They, too, had been sum--
Lauzet was not a bad man, really. :
you, but I am not prepared to take
such a risk on your behalf.”
“But my poor wife,” Deseze pro-
tested, putting his pride in his pocket
and stooping to appeal to the man
who had once been a menial in his
pay. “She is almost bedridden now
and has not long to live. Could you
not exercise some benevolent author
ity for her sake?”
Lauzet shook his head.
ble,” he said decisively.
“and my daughter,” moaned the dis-
tracted father, “my little Madeleine is
not yet thirteen. What will be her
fate? My God, Lauzet! Have you
no bowels of compassion? Have pot
you got a daughter of your own?”
“] have,” .Lauzet retorted curtly,
«and therefore 1 have taken special
care to keep on the right side of the
government and never to express an
opinion on anything that is done for
And I should
advise you, Citizen Deseze, to do like-
wise, so that you may earn for your-
*“Impossi-
‘self and your family scme measure of
mercy for your transgressions.”
And with this grandiloquent phrase
Lauzet indicated that the interview
was now at an end. He also ordered
the prisoner to be taken back to Mois-
son, and there to be kept in the cells
until the following day, when arrange-
ments would be complete for convey-
ing the Deseze family under escort to
Paris.
The following day was market day
in Moisson, and at first Lauzet had
been doubtful whether it would not
be best to wait another twenty-four
hours before carrying through his
friend Chauvelin’s project. The dawn,
however, broke with ideal conditions
for it; a leaden sky, a tearing wind,
and torrents of rain alternating with
a thin drizzle. On the whole, nature
had ranged herself on the side of all
those who worked their nefarious
deeds under cover of semi-darkness.
Lauzet, gazing out on the mournful
autumnful aspect of weather and sky,
felt that if the Scarlet Pimpernel did
indeed meditate mischief he would
choose such a day as this.
Thus it was that in the early dawn
of this market day, the citizens of
Moisson had a sad scene to witness.
Soon after seven o'clock a small crowd
collected round the big, old-fashioned
diligence which had drawn up outside
the Deseze house in the Rue des
Pipots. To right and left of the vehi-
cle were soldiers on horseback, two
on each side, mounting guard, and the
man who held the reins was also in
the uniform of the rural gendarmerie.
Every one in the city knew this man.
Charles Marie was his name, and he
had begun life as a baker’s assistant
—a .weak, anemic looking youth, who
had been sent out of the army because
he was no use as a fighting man, so
timorous and slow witted was he.
Lately he had obtained a position
as hostler at the posting inn in Mantes,
because, it seems, he did know some- |
thing about horses; but why he should
have becn: ghosen to drive the dill-
gence to Paris today nobody could
conjecture, He must have had a friend
in high places to be so exalted above
his capabilities. Anyway, there he
sat on the box, looking neither to right
por left but straight between the ears
of his off-leader, and not a word would
he say In response to the questions,
the jeers, and the taunts which came
to him from his friends in the crowd.
Soon. however, excitement centered
round the porte-cochere of the Deseze
house. It had suddenly been thrown
wide open, and in the doorway ap-
peared poor Citizeness Deseze, es-
corted by two officers of gendarmerie,
and closely followed by Madeleire, her
little daughter, also under guard. It
was pitiable to see the poor invalid,
who could scarcely stand on her bhalf-
paralyzed limbs, thus being dragged
away from the home where she had
lived as a happy wife and mother for
close on a quarter -of a century. A
murmur of sympathy for these two
women, and of execration for the
brutality of this arrest, rose from the
crowd. But it was quickly enough
suppressed. Who would dare murmur
openly these days, when spies of the
revolutionary government lurked at
every corner?
Hostile glances, however, were shot
at Citizen Lauzet, who had come over
that morning from Mantes and now
aren’
Hostile Glances Were Shot at Citizen
Lauzet.
: stood by, somewhat detached from the
‘crowd, watching the proceedings in
the company of his friend Chauvelin.
“Js this in accordance with your
idea?’ he asked in a whisper when,
presently, Chauvelin completed a quick
and comprehensive examination of the
diligence.
Chauvelin’s only reply was a curt
and peremptory “Hush 1” and a furtive
glance about him to see that there
were no likely eavesdroppers within
hearing. He knew from experience
that the famous League of the Scarlet
Pimpernel also had spies lurking in
. every corner; spies not So numerous,
perhaps, as those in the pay of the
committe of public safety, but a great
deal more astute, and he also knew—
none better—that the case of the
Deseze family was just one that would
‘appeal to the sporting or chivalrous
instincts of that band of English ad-
venturers.
But he was satisfied with the mise-
enscene organized, under his super-
vision, by Chief of Section Lauzet.
Prominence had been given all over
. the department to the arrest of the
Deseze family, to the worth and in-
tegrity of its head, the sickness of the
wife, the charm and modesty of the
@aughter. Half a dozen picked men
of the gendarmerie of Mantes, armed
to the teeth, would join the diligence
at Mantes, but they would ride inside
, disguised as passengers, whilst it was
left for anybody to see that the coach
.was traveling under a feeble guard of
four men, an officer, and three troop-
ers, and was driven by a lout who was
known to have no fight in him.
CHAPTER IV
The Road to Death
Lauzet had been inspired when he
chose this day; a typical day in late
October, with that pitiless rain lashed
by a southeasterly wind that would
score the roads and fret the horses.
Down in the forest the diligence would
have to go almost at foot pace, for
the outline of every tree on the road-
side would be blurred, and objects
would loom like ghosts out of the mist.
Yes! The scene was set for the
comedy invented by Chauvelin for the
capture of his arch enemy. It only re-
mained for the principal actors to play
their roles to his satisfaction. = Al-
ready the female prisoners had been
hustled into the diligence amidst the
sighs and tears of their sympathizers
in the crowd. Poor Madam Deseze
had sunk half fainting with exhaus-
tion into the arms of her young daugh-
ter, and the two women sat huddled
in the extreme corner of the vehicle,
more dead than alive. And now,
amidst much Jjolting and creaking,
some shouting and cursing, too, with
cracking of whip and jingling of spurs,
the awkward, lumbering diligence was
started on fts way. Some two hun-
dred meters farther on it came to a
halt once more, outside the commis-
sariat, and here the male prisener,
Citizen Deseze himself, was made to
join his family in the airless, creak-
ing vehicle. Resigned to his own fate,
he set himself the task of making the
painful journey as endurable as may
be to his invalid wife. Hardly realiz-
ing yet the extent of their misfortune
and the imminence of their doom, the
three victims of Lauzet’s cupidity and
Chauvelin’s vengefulness suffered their
martyrdom in silence and with resig-
nation.
The final start from Moisson bad
peen made at eight o'clock. By this
time the small city was filling with
the neighboring farmers and drovers,
with their cattle and their carts and
vehicles of every kind, all tending
either to the Place du Marche or to
the various taverns for refreshment.
Lauzet, accompanied by Chauvelin,
had ridden back to Mantes. Just be-
fore nine o'clock the diligence rat-
tied over the cobblestones of that city,
and a halt was called at the posting
inn. It was part of the program to
spend some hours in Mantes, where
the extra men of the gendarmerie
would be picked up, and only to make
a fresh start when the shades of eve-
ning were beginning to draw in. It
was not to be supposed that the Eng-
lish brigands would launch their at-
tack in broad daylight, and the weather
did not look as if it were going to
mend.
Chauvelin, of course, was there, see-
ing to every arrangement, with his
friend Lauzet close at his elbow. He
had himself picked out the six men of
the gendarmerie who were to ride in
disguise inside the diligence; he had
inspected their disguises, added an
artistic or realistic touch here and
there, befere he pronounced them to
be good.
Finally he turned to the young offi-
cer who was in command of the party.
“Now,” he said very earnestly to
him, ¥you know just what you are
going to do? You realize the im-
portance of the mission which is be-
ing intrusted to you?’
The officer nodded in reply. He was
a young man and ambitious. The task
which had been allotted to him had
fired his enthusiasm. Indeed, in these
days, the capture of that elusive Eng-
‘lish spy known as the Scarlet Pim-
pernel was a goal for which every
young officer of gendarmerie was wont
to strive; not only because of the sub-
stantial monetary reward in prospect,
but because of the glory attached to
the destruction of so bitter an enemy
. of revolutionary France.
«I will tell you, citizen,” the young
man said to Chauvelin, “how I have
finally laid my plans, and you shall
tell me if you approve. About a kilo-
meter and a half before the road
emerges out of the wood, the ground
rises gradually, and there are one or
two sharp bends in the road until it
reaches the cresi of the hill That
part of the forest is very lonely, and
at a point just before the ground be-
gins to rise I intend to push my mount
on for a meter or two ahead of the
men, and pretend to examine the lead-
ers of the team. After a while I will
call ‘halt’ and make as if 1 thought
there was something wrong with the
PageWSeven
traces. The driver is such a tout that
he and I will embark on a long argu-
ment as to what he should do to rem-
edy the defect, and in the course of
the argument 1 will contrive to slip
a small piece of flint which 1 have in
my pocket under the hoof of one of
the coach horses.”
“You don’t think one of your men
will see you doing that—and perhaps
wonder?”
“Oh, I can be careful. It is done in
a moment. Then we shall get on the
road again, and five minutes later that
same coach horse will be dead lame.
Another halt for examination, this
time near the crest of the hill. The
lout of a driver will never discover:
what is amiss. I shall make as if the
hurt was serious, and.set myself the
task of tending it. 1 thought then,
subject to your approval, of ordering
the troopers to dismount. I have pro-
vided them with good wine and certain
special rations in their knapsacks. At
a word from me they will rest by the
roadside, seemingly heedless and un-
concerned, but really very wide awake
and keen on the scent. The diligence
will the while be at a standstill, with
doors shut and curtains closely drawn,
but the six men whom we have stowed
inside the coach are keen on their
work, well armed and, like hungry
wolves, eager to get their teeth into
the enemies of France. They will be
on the alert, their hands on their pis-
ols, ready to spring up and out of the
coach at the first sign of an attack.
Now, what think you of that setting,
citizen,” the young officer concluded,
«for luring the English spies into a
fight? Their methods are usually fur-
tive, but this time they will have to
meet us in a hand-to-hand combat,
and, if they fall into our trap, I know
that we can deal with them.”
“] ean but pronounce your plan ad-
mirable, citizen captain,” Chauvelin re-
plied approvingly. “You have my best
wishes for your success. In the mean-
while citizen Lauzet and I will be anx-
fously waiting for news. We'll make
a start soon after you, and strike the
pridle path through the forest. This
gives us a short cut which will bring
‘ns to Epone just in time to hear your
pews. If you have been attacked,
send me a courier thither as soon as
you have the English spies securely
bound and gagged inside your coach.”
“111 not fail you, citizen,” the young
captain rejoined eagerly.
Lauzet, who had stood by, anxious
and silent, whilst this colloquy was
going on, shrugged his shoulders with
a show of philosophy.
“And at worst,” he sald, “if that
meddlesome Scarlet Pimpernel should
think prudence the better part of valor,
if he should scent a trap and carefully
avold it, we would always have the
satisfaction of sending the Deseze
family to the guillotine.”
«The English spies,” Chauvelin re-
joined dryly. «will not scent a trap,
por will they give up the attempt to
rescue the Deseze family. This is
just a case to rouse their ire against
us, and if it prove successful, one to
flatter thelr vanity and redound to
their credit in their own country. No,”
he went on thoughtfully. “] have no
fear that the Scarlet Pimpernel will
evade us this time. He will attack, [
know. The only question is, when he
does are we sufficiently prepared to
defeat him?”
“With the half-dozen excellent men
whom 1 have picked up here in
Mantes,” the young officer retorted.
«I shall have nine under my command,
and we are prepared for the attack.
It is the English spies who will be
surprised, we who will hold the ad-
vantage, even as to numbers, for the
Scarlet Pimpernel can only work with
two or three followers, and we shall
outnumber them three to one.”
“Then good luck attend you, citizen
captain,” Chauvelin said at the last.
“You are in a fair way of rendering
your country a signal. service; see
that you let not fame and fortune
evade you in the end. Remember that
you will have to deal with one of the
most astute as well as most daring ad-
venturers of our times, who has baf-
fled men that were cleverer and at
least as ambitious as yourself. Stay,”
the Terrorist added, and placed his
thin, claw-like hand as if in warning
on the other man’s arm. “It is impos-
sible, even for me who knows him as
he is and who has seen him in scores
of disguises, to give you any accurate
description of his personality ; but one
thing you can bear in mind is that he
is tall above the average; tall, even
for an Englishman, and his height is
the one thing about him that he can-
not disguise. So beware of every man
who is taller than yourself, citizen
captain, however innocent he may ap-
pear, take the precaution to detain
him. Mistrust every tall man, for one
of them is of a surety the Scarlet Pim-
pernel.”
He finally reminded the young cap-
tain to send him a courier with the
welcome news as soon as possible.
“Citizen Lauzet and L” he concluded,
«will ride by the bridle path and
await you at Epome. I shall be de-
voured with anxiety until I hear from
you.”
The men were not Nervous, not at
first. They were merely excited,
knowing what awaited them, both dur-
ing the journey and afterward by way
of reward. If they were successful
there would be for every man emn-
gaged in the undertaking a sufficiency
to provide for himself and his family
for the rest of his life. The capture
of the Scarlet Pimpernel! Half a
dozen magic words in truth, and they
had spurred Citizen Captain Raffet
and his squad with boundless enthus-
ijasm. They felt no discomfort either
from tearing wind or driving rain.
With eyes fixed before them they rode
on, striving to pierce the mist-laden
distance where the enemy of France
was even now lurking, intent on that
adventure which would be his last.
It was long past five o'clock when
the diligence with its escort reached
the edge of the forest. What little
daylight there had been all afternoon
was already beginning to wane; the
sky was of a leaden color, heavily
laden with rain clouds, save way be-
hind in the west, where a few flery,
crimson streaks cut through the clouds
like sharp incisions, there, where the
setting sun still lingered in the au-
tumn sky.
The men now .were keenly on the
alert, their eyes searching the dim
light that glimmered through the for-
est trees, their ears attuned to the
slightest sound that rose above the
patter of their horses’ hoofs or the
grinding of the coach wheels over the
muddy road. The forest between
Mezieres and Epone is four kilometers
long; the road which intersects fit
plunges down into the valley and then
rises up again with one or two sharp
bends to the crest of the hill, after
which, within the space of two hun-
dred yards, the forest trees quickly
become sparse and the open country
lies spread out like a map with, on
the right, the ribbon of the Seine wind-
ing its way along to St. Germain and
Paris.
It was in the forest that the enemy
would lurk. Out in the open he would
find no cover, and could be sighted 2
couple of kilometers all around and
more, it he attempted one of his auda-
cious tricks. The light, which became
more and more fitful as the sun sank
lower in the west, made observation
difficult; the thicket to right and left
of the road looked like a dark, im-
penetrable ” wall, from behind which,
mayhap, dozens of pairs of eyes were
peering, ready to attack. The men
who were riding by the side of the
coach felt queer sensations at the roots
of their hair; their hands, moist and
hot, clung convulsively to the reins,
and the glances which they cast about
them became furtive and laden with
fear.
But those who were iuside the dili-
gence had no superstitious terrors to
contend with. The aristos were hud-
dled up together in the far cormer ot
the vehicle, and the men had spread
themselves out, three a side, as com-
fortably as they could. A couple of
bottles of excellent wine had been wel-
come supplement to their rations and
put additional heart into them. One
of them had produced a pack of greasy,
well-worn cards from his pocket with
which to while away the time.
A quarter of an hour later the cap-
tain in command called a halt; the
jolting vehicle came to a standstill
with a. jerk, and there was much
scrambling and creaking and. jingling,
while the driver got down from his
seat to see what was amiss. Nothing
much, apparently, for a minute or two
later the diligence was once more on
its way. But only for a brief pericd.
Soon there was an appreciable slack-
ening of speed, then a halt. More
shouting and swearing, creaking and
scrambling. The men inside marveled
what was amiss. It was as much as
their life was worth to put their
heads out of the window or even to
draw one of the tattered blinds to one
side in order to peep. But they quick-
ly put cards and wine away; it was
better to be prepared for the word of
command which might come now at
any moment.
They strained their ears to listen
and, one by oue, a word or two, a
movement, a sound, told them what
was happening. Their comrades out-
side were ordered to dismount, to take
it easy, to sit down by the roadside
and rest. It seems one of the draft
horses had gone lame. The men who
were inside sighed with a longing for
rest, too, a desire to stretch their
cramped limbs, but they did not mur-
mur. They were waiting for the word
of command that would release them
from their inactivity. Until then
there was nothing to do but wait. No
doubt this halt by the roadside was
just a part of the great scheme for
luring the English adventurers to the
attack. Grimly and in silence the six
picked men inside the coach drew
their pistols from their wallets, saw
that they were primed and in order,
then laid them across their knees with
their fingers on the triggers, in readi-
pess for the Englishmen when they
came.
(CONTINUED NEXT WEEK)
Prevent White Scours
White scours in new born calves
is a disease likely to cling to certain
premises or herds. Outbreaks fre-
quently destroy practically every calf
porn. It is caused by various varie-
ties of the colon bacillus and allied
microbic species. Most of those or-
dinarily are harmless inhabitants of
the intestines of the older animals.
What causes them to go on a calf kill-
ing rampage is not known at all.
Feeding Young Calf
The young calf usually will take
about six to ten pounds of skim milk
daily, which is increased gradually to
sixteen to twenty pounds by the time
the calf is four months old. In addi
tion, a little grain and some legume
hay is provided. During this time
cleanliness of feed and surroundings
are of great importance. If it is pos-
sible to have each calf tied separately,
the amount of feed can be regulated
better and the feeder can watch the
, condition of each calf.
Always Content
We shall be made truly wise if we
be made content; content, too, -not
only with what we understand, but
content with what we do not under-
stand—the habit of mind which theo-
logians call, and rightly, faith in
God.—Charles Kingsley.
TAL
SILAGE IS MOST
ECONOMICAL FEED
Every dairy farmer worthy of the
name should have a silo, because
dairying is rarely, if ever, profitable
in these days without one. However,
whenever a farmer contemplates the
purchase of a silo, first of all he con-
giders the advantages that are likely
to accrue from its use, also any dis-
advantages. Certainly the only dis-
advantage Is the first cost of the silo,
which is not so great either, consider-
ing the length of service a good sub-
stantial silo will give,
Farmers on every hand are begin-
ning to realize the many good sound
reasons for feeding silage. In all my
experience, I have not talked to a
gingle farmer who was displeased
with his silo, with one exception, and
fn that Instance it was a home-made
affair and not large enough, writes
H. W. Swope in the Indiana Farmer's
Guide. That farmer today has two
silos on his farm, is a successful feed-
er, farmer, and a good business man
as well.
Silage is the most economical feed
that can be produced for dairy cattle,
and corn is without question the best
crop to grow for silage. It is the
writer's experience that where a farm-
er hss eight to ten cows and sufficient
tillable ground to grow corn, a silo
will without question be a source of
profit to that farmer, regardless of
his location. In order to make dairy-
Ing successful it is necessary to have
a silo to furnish feed all the year
round. Silage alse makes any farm
more productive where it is used. One
of the reasons I have found a silo to
be profitable, aside from the feeding
value of silage, is that more silo ma-
terial can be grown on a given acre-
age and put into the silo cheaper than
it could if it were harvested and fed
dry. No other feed can compare with
silage in succulence and palatability.
The dairy cow that is fed silage will
keep up her flow of milk and be more
profitable than from any other method
of feeding.
Corn Has Surely Proven *
Most Economical Grain
The results of experiments of the
different experiment stations in feed-
ing cattle on pasture indicate that the
pasture should be supplemented with
grain in maintaining the appetite and
in securing satisfactory gains during
the last stages of the feeding period.
These experiments have shown that it
is profitable to feed grain during the
first part of the feeding period when
cattle are on pasture. .
Corn has proven the most economi-
eal grain to feed as a supplement
while cattle are on good pasture.
Since pasture grass is very high in
protein, it has not proven £0 profitable
to feed high protein concentrates such
as linseed meal or cottonseed meal,
although cattle that received linseed
meal had a better finish than those
that did not receive it in the ration.
This is not always true if cottonseed
meal is fed instead of linseed meal. |
Producers Responsible
for Dairy Cleanliness
Inasmuch as the producers of the
milk and cream are responsible for
the quality of the finished product in
a large measure, they are the ones
who must be appealed to and made
to see the importance of cleanliness
in everything connected with the pro-
duction and handling of milk. Clean
barns, clean cows, clean milk uten-
sils, clean milkers, all are very im-
portant. Despite the most careful
methods in the matter of cleanliness,
some bacteria will get into the milk,
hence the milk should be cooled and
kept cool as soon as possible to check
the growth of the bacteria which have
gained entrance into the milk or
cream. In this connection it is well
to remember that bacteria double in
pumber in every half-hour when the
milk is kept at a favorable tempera-
ture, which is from 70 to 90 degrees
Fahrenheit.
Dry pastures make mighty little
milk. Supplement them with some
green corn or sorghum.
+ ® -
Fix a box where the young calves
can have some grain and hay. It is
surprising how quickly they can eat it.
- ® :
®
When feed is not plentiful, as is
the case in some localities this year,
the boarder cow, masquerading as a
milk cow, is an even greater lability
than usual.
ss & ©
Give the new-born calf a quart of
milk three times daily at the start.
® * @
The use of silage in feeding dairy
cows through the summer is increas-
ing and will continue to do so as its
value in dry pasture seasons is better
appreciated.
ss © © =
In raising the dairy calf leave the
calf with the cow for one or two days
and then take it away and feed from
eight to ten pounds of warm milk per
day for about two weeks,