The Dallas post. (Dallas, Pa.) 19??-200?, October 12, 1934, Image 6

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THE DALLAS POST, DALLAS, PA. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 12,1934.
THE STORY
ries
CHAPTER 1.—Jim Wall, young cow-
ncher from Wyoming. in the early
ys of the cattle industry, seeks a
ew fleld in Utah. ‘He meets Hank
78, who admits to being a robber,
and tells Wall he is working for an
Bnglishman named Herrick, who has
ocated & big ranch in the mountains.
errick has employed a small army of
rustlers and gun-fighters, and Hays
and others are plotting to steal their
#smployer’s cattle and money. Hays
wants Wall to throw in with the
rustlers.
CHAPTER IL—At the little settle-
ment of Green River, Hays gets into
‘an argument with a gambler called
~Btud, over a poker game. Wall saves
Hank's life by bluffing the gambler out
of shooting. With Hays and two other
rustlers, Happy Jack and Lincoln, Jim
‘Wall starts out for Herrick’s ranch.
camp, the first night out, Jim re-
rets the step he has taken, but it is
0 late to turn back.
-
"CHAPTER II1.—The four men arrive
at the ranch. Herrick announces that
Bis sister, Helen, is coming to the
ranch. Hays unfolds his plan for get-
rz possession of the 12,000 head of
ve stock on the Herrick ranch. He
2nd his lieutenants ride away to drive
“off the first bunch of cattle. Jim re-
mains behind to shoot it out, if neces-
sary, with Heeseman, Hays’ rival
@mong the cattle rustlers. Jim sees a
dust cloud, which he is certain de-
. motes the arrival of Heeseman and his
gang. He stands with rifle ready.
CHAPTER IV.—Heeseman tells Wall
~ ghat Hays was once his (Heeseman's)
partner and double-crossed him. Her-
ck' delegates Jim to go to Grand
unction to meet Miss Herrick. Jim
ets Barnes, a young cowboy with
im, to tell her that he (Jim) is a
© desperado of the worst type. Barnes
~ does so, but the girl treats the in-
formation lightly.
| @HAPTER V.—On his arrival at the
Ach, with Helen, Jim is confronted
Mays, who betrays unusual inter-
#8t in the coming of Miss Herrick. Jim
tells Hays that Miss Herrick brought
@& Wells Fargo package, probably of !
money. Jim goes riding with the Her-
picks and greatly impresses Helen with
Bis revolver shooting.
CHAPTER VI—The cattle drives to
Grand Junction are started. Jim Wall
finds himself falling in love with Hel-
on, He coaches her in riding western
style, and finally kisses her. She is
angry and dismisses him, but relents
we asks him not to leave the ranch.
ys’ men return from the drive with
the stolen cattle. The leader has sold
the cattle and brought back the money.
A quick getaway is imperative. Hays
tells his men to go on ahead, that he
will join them at a certain canyon.
The riders arrive at the canyon and
to their amazement and Jim's dismay,
Hays and a lieutenant are sighted with
Helen Herrick—a captive.
i CHAPTER VIL.—The gang is about
40 break with Hays over the abduc-
tion, but he explains that he robbed
Herrick and stgle Helen for ransom.
Realizing that Helen will be worse off
if she falls into Heeseman's clutches,
Jim Wall rides on with Hank and his
men. Heeseman's riders are discovered
~ in pursuit. After a running battle in
which Latimer, one of Hays’ men, is
wounded, Hays leads the gang into a
eanyon retreat, difficult of access and
easy to defend—The Robbers’ Roost.
CHAPTER. VIIL.—After camp has
peen made, Jim seeks out Smoky Slo-
eum, and secures his promise to ald
in case Helen is threatened with harm
by the villainous Hays. Jim hears a
wild cry in the night. Before he dies,
Latimer. who was wounded in the fight
with Heeseman, tells Jim and Smoky
that Hays has held out some of the
‘money he stole from Herrick.
| CHAPTER IX.—In the “roost” the
robbers make permanent camp. Jim
keeps a watchful eye on Helen. She
steals from her tent at night to tell
him that she fears the outlaw, Hank
Hays. While they whisper, Hank steals
upon them. Jim makes him believe that
he has spurned a bribe from the girl |
to rescue her. Heeseman’s riders are
seen approaching and the desperadoes
prepare to fight.
CHAPTER X.—Helen is taken to a
cave. Jim and Smoky Slocum open fire.
A sharpshooter has the range of the
eavern. Smoky crawls out and shoots
him. Hank Hays crawling to an ad-
yantageous position, kills Heeseman.
The besiegers withdraw in panic.
‘ CHAPTER XI—Smoky is killed in
almost the last exchange of shots, and
when the triumphant Hays returns to
the cavern where he has left Helen,
he is faced by Jim, who denounces him
for his cdouble-crossing the gang, and
particularly for his abduction of Helen.
In a pistol duel, Jim kills Hank Hays.
The problem now is to get Helen out
of this wild, rcugh country. Helen
faints at the end of the first day’s ride,
though she has borne the hardships of
the journey heroically
CHAPTER XII
To Jim Wall it seemed a miracle
that he did not snatch Helen to his
preast. Like a wind-driven prairie
fire his blood raced. He set her up-
right on the ground. ;
“Can you stand?” he inquired.
~ Bhe essayed to, and, letting go of
%im, plainly betrayed her spent condi-
tion. Jim helped her into the shallow
. hollow under the rock.
In the quarter-hour before dusk he
had unpacked, hobbled and fed the
dhorses, built a fire and put water on
to boil
He carried his bed under the shelf
and unrolled it, changed and doubled
the blankets and folded the tarpaulin
go that it could be pulled up In case
rain beat in.
The fire sent a ruddy light into the
cavern, and all at once Jim discovered
that the girl was watching him,
“Are we safe here?’ she asked.
“God only knows! I think so—I
hope so. It’s a lonely desert. Our
enemies have gone the other way.
They know they nearly wiped out
Hays, and they’ll try again with rein-
forcements. They knew Hays had a
fortune in cash—and you.”
To his concern and discomfiture, she
ate very little. She tried, only to fail
| But she did drink her coffee.
~~
R..
we
Toul pick up,” he said hopefully.
“Sleep, though, is more necessary than
food.”
“Jim, I can’t pull off my boots,” she
said later. “Please help me.”
She was sitting on the bed when
Jim took hold of the boot she ele-
vated.
“Look to see if you have any blis-
ters,” he said. “T'll bathe your feet
in a little cold water and salt.”
Bringing a pan of water, he knelt
before her.
“Don’t stand on ceremony, Helen.
Stick out your foot. . ..” *
She put out her small feet. Jim lost
‘no time in pressing them down into
the cold salt water. Then he rubbed
her feet until they were red.
“Put your stockings back on ana
sleep in your clothes,” he said. “Be-
fore you crawl in, I'll bring a hot
stone.”
“00000!” She stretched out with a
slow, final movement and pulled the
blankets up under her chin.
Almost instantly she fell asleep with
the flickering firelight upon her face.
Jim walked out, to find the horses
close to camp and making out fairly
well on the grass. He patrolled his
beat between the flickering fire and
the sleeping girl, heedless of the rain,
sleepless for hours, on guard. And
after that when he slept it was with
one eye open.
Toward dawn he got up and rolled
his bed. The air was raw and cold,
blowing a fine rain in his face.
By the time breakfast was cooking
daylight had broken. Finding a thin,
flat rock Jim placed Helen's break-
fast upon it and carried it to her bed-
side. Then he called her.
“I've brought some food and strong
coffee,” he said.
Jim repaired to his own breakfast,
after which he wrapped up biscuits
and meat to take on the day’s ride.
She pulled on her boots, and crawl-
ing out and straightening up with
slow, painful effort she asked for a
little hot water. Jim fetched it.
Free then to pack, Jim applied him-
self with swift, methodical hands.
She mounted unassisted. Jim helped
her into the long slicker.
“It'll be a tough day,” he went on.
“But we're starting dry. Hang on as
long as you can. We absolutely must
get out of these brakes.”
With that he lined up the pack ani-
mals, and they were off.
Jim traveled as best he could, keep-
ing to no single direction, though the
trend was northerly and following
ground that appeared passable. The
pack horses led. He followed them,
and Helen brought up the rear.
The rain fell all morning and let
up at intervals. Then black clouds
gathered, and a storm, with “thunder
4nd lightning, burst upon them. Water
ran in shoots off the rocks.
At length the fugitives came to a
veritable river at which the lead
horse balked. Bay, however, did not
show any qualms. So he put Bay to
the task. The big horse made it easily,
with water coming up to his flanks.
Whereupon Jim rode him back, after
which the pack horses, intelligent and
sensible, essayed the ford.
Then Jim returned for Helen.
“I'll carry you while you hang on
to vour bridle,” said Jim, riding close
to the gray. He had to lift her sheer
off her horse and around in front of
him, where he upheld her with his
left arm.
They made it, with the splendid
horse staggering out under his double
burden just in the nick of time.
“You are doing fine. We have come
eighteen or twenty miles. But I don’t
like the look ahead.”
When once more they were on the
way Jim gave her a biscuit and a strip
of meat. ‘Eat. The rain will be on
us soon.”
Late in the afternoon there was a
momentary brightening of massed
clouds in the west.
They rode down out of these low
gravel hills that had limited their
sight, into a long, green, winding val-
ley. A red river, surely the Dirty
Devil, ran, ridged and frothy, under
a steep wall of earth.
“I ean’t hang on—longer,” faltered
Helen, faintly.
“Ill carry you. Why didn’t you tell
me sooner?” reproved Jim. He knotted
her reins and dropped the loop over
the pommel of her saddle. Then he
lifted her off her horse onto his.
So Jim rode on, aware that her col-
lapse and the terrible nature of the
desert and another storm at hand
were wearing away even his indom-
itable spirit,
Ragged, red bluff stood up all along
his right, with acres of loose rock
ready to slide.
They swung in behind the bluff, and
then out again to the higher and nar-
rower bank upon which the old trail
passed around the corner.
“Whoa, Bay,” called Jim hauling up
to wait for the gray. “I don’t like this
place. Don't look, Helen.”
Te
As she made no reply Jim leaned
back to get a glimpse of her face.
Asleep! :
“Come on, Gray,” he called to the
horse behind, and to Bay: ‘Steady,
old fellow. If that narrows round
there you want to step sure.” '
It did narrow. Eight feet, six feet
—less! Bits of the steep bank were
crumbling away. But the pack horses
had gone round, It would not be safe
to try to turn now,
Suddenly Jim encountered a still
narrower point, scarcely five feet wide.
The edge had freshly crumbled. It
was crumbling now.
Bay stepped carefully, confidently.
He knew horses with wide packs had
safely passed there. He went on
Jim felt him sink. One hind foot had
crushed out a section of earth, letting
him down. But with: a snort he
plunged ahead to wider trail.
Jim’s heart had leaped to his throat.
He heard thud of hoofs behind, a
heavy, sliddery rumble. Looking back
he saw. the gray horse leap from a sec-
tion of wall, beginning to gap out-
wards to solid ground ahead. Next in-
stant six feet of the trail, close up to
the bluff, slid down in an avalanche.
“Close shave for us all!” cried Jim,
huskily.
Right at his feet a red torrent rushed
with a wrestling, clashing sound from
out a deep-walled gorge of splintered,
rocking walls.
This was a tributary, a vicious
child of the hideous Dirty Devil.’ It
barred Jim’s progress. Thirty paces
to the fore, on the widest part of the
bank, stood the pack horses. Jim
forced his startled gaze to the rear.
No rider would ever come or go that
way again.
Jim dismounted carefully with Helen
and, stooping as he moved under the
leaning rock, he set her down on dry
i dust.
“Is it the end for us?”
He did not answer. Folding the
slicker into a pillow he laid her head
back upon it. Scrambling up, he re-
moved the saddle from Bay and
dropped it under the shelter. Then,
leading the horse, he stepped forward
to where the gray and the pack ani-
mals had halted.
The instinct of the horses had
guided them to halt behind the only
safe spot on the unsafe bank. Jim
removed their packs, leaving the sad:
dles on. Without hesitation he poured
out all of the grain, about two quarts
for each horse. Lastly he jammed the
packs under the edge of the boulders
and left the horses free to take care
of themselves.
He dreaded the coming hours—the
night—the—he knew not what.
Jim removed his slicker and folded
it into a long pad. As he crept closer
the girl stirred again and spoke. He
thought she asked if he was there.
He placed the slicker in the best avail
able place and covered that with the
drier of the two saddle blankets. He
pulled the saddle closer. Then he
lifted the girl over his lap and covered
her with the dry blanket. He leaned
back against the stone with her head
on his shoulder and his arm support-
ing her. It was not only that he want-
ed to keep her dry and warm: he had
to have her in his arms while he
waited for the nameless terror he
anticipated.
This was the climax of the storm
that had been gathering for days. Out
upon the level desert it would have
been serious for travelers; here in this
gorge it was a maelstrom. Jim did
not expect to live to hear it pass away.
Yet he did. And then began the after
math of a flood let loose upon such
unstable earth. The waterfall grad-
ually rose to a thundering, continuous
crash. [It dominated for a while, until
the thousand streams from above
poured over the rims to deaden all, to
completely deafen Jim.
A sheet of water, sliding over the
rock, hid the opaque blackness from
Jim’s eyes. Any moment now a flood
would rise over the bank, and when it
did Jim meant to climb higher with
the girl, to front the hurtling rocks
and slipping sides, and fight till the
bitter end.
But many changes as the hours
brought, that flood did not rise above
the bank. Jim saw the sheet of wa-
ter fall and the black space of gorge
again. He heard the avalanches
and the great single bowlders come
down, and the furious backlash of the
torrent below, and the lessening roar
of the waterfall, 7
The time came to Jim, as if he
dreamed, when all sounds changed,
lessened, faded away, except the pe-
culiar thrashing of the stream below.
And he got to listening for that sound,
which occurred only occasionally. For
a while the sliding rush of heavy wa-
ter swept on, suddenly to change into
a furious splashing,
At length Jim calculated it was a
strong current laden with sand, which
at times caused billows to rise and
lash their twisting tips back upon
themselves. Long he heard these
slowly diminishing, gradually separat-
ing sounds.
The streams ceased flowing,
slides ceased slipping, the rocks ceased
rolling and the waterfall failed from a
thundering to a hollow roar and from
that to a softening splash.
Jim imagined he saw dim stars out
in a void that seemed to change from
black to gray. Was dawn at hand?
Had they been spared? The gurgle of
the stream below merged into the dis-
tant, low rumble of the Dirty Devil.
Jim rested there, staring out at the
spectral forms on the opposite wall,
thinking thoughts never before inhab-
itants of his confused brain.
But the sky was graying, the gorge
taking shape in the gloom, and this
place which had heard a din of hide-
ous sounds was silent as a grave,
At last Jim had to accept a mar-
velons phenomenon—dawn was at
I — i —_ —
+
the |
hand. Gently he slipped Helen into
the hollow of the saddle. She was
still asleep. His cramped limbs buck-
led under him and excruciating pains
shot through his bones and muscles.
In the gray light objects were dis-
cernible. He could not see to the head
of the gorge, where the waterfall had
plunged out from the wall. But si-
lence meant that it had been surface
water, a product of the storm, and fit
was gone. Beneath the bank ran a
channel of fine-ribbed sand where not
even a puddle showed. On the bank
the horses stood patiently, except Bay,
and he was nosing around for a blade
of grass that did not exist on the sod-
den earth, The great slope appeared
the same and yet not the same. A
mute acceptance of ultimate destruc-
tion hovered over it.
Sunrise found Jim Wall topping a
rise of rocky ground miles beyond the
scene of his night vigil. Again he fol-
lowed his sure-footed lead pack horse.
The sky was blue, the sun bright
and warm, and at the moment it
crowned with gold the top of the pur-
ple butte Jim had seen twice before.
It appeared close now, rearing a cor-
rugated peak above yellow and brown
hills. Jim was carrying Helen in front
of him. Conscious, but too spent to
speak or move, she lay back on his
arm and watched him.
There had been a trail along here
once, as was proved by a depressed
line on the gravelly earth. When Jim
surmounted this barren divide he sud-
denly was confronted by an amazing
and marvelous spectacle.
“Blue valley!” he ejaculated.
“Blue valley! . . . Helen, we're out
of the brakes! . , Safe! Men live
Zihere:
She heard him, for she smiled up
into his face, glad .for his sake, but in
her exhaustion bevond caring for her
own.
There was no sign of habitation, nor
any smoke. But Jim knew this was
Blue valley. It was long, perhaps fif-
teen miles, and probably the farms
were located at the head, where irri-
gation had been possible. How could
even pioneers utilize that ferocious
river?
Jim followed the lead pack horse
down into gumbo mud. The floor of
the valley supported a mass of foliage
besides the stately cottonwoods. Ang
at every step a horse's hoof sank
deep, to come forth with a huge cake
of mud.
At midday Jim passed deserted cab-
ins, some on one side of the river,
some on the other. They did not ap
pear so old, yet they were not new.
Had Blue valley been abandoned? Jim
was convinced it could not be so. But
when he espied a deserted church,
with vacant eye-like windows, then
his heart sank; Helen must have. rest,
care, food. He was at the end of his
resources.
An hour later he toiled past a shack
built of logs and stones, and adjoin:
ing a dugout, set into the hill. People
had lived there once, but long ago.
Jim's last hope fled. He was still
far from the head of the valley, but
apparently he had left the zone of hab:
itation behind.
The afternoon waned. The horses
plodded on, slower and slower, wear-
ing to exhaustion. Helen was a dead
weight. Despair had seized upon him
when he turned a yellow corner be
tween the slope and the cottonwoods
to be confronted by a wide pasture at
the end of which a log cabin nestled
among cottonwoods. A column of blue
smoke rose lazily against the foliage
The horses labored out of the mud
to higher ground. Jim rode up to the
cabin. Never in all his life had he
been so glad to smell smoke, to see a
garden, to hear a dog bark. His ever-
quick eye caught sight of a pan who
had evidently been watching, for he
stepped out on the porch, rifle in hand.
Jim kept on to the barred gate. There
were flowers in the yard and vines on
the cabin—proof of feminine hands.
And he saw a bed on the porch.
“Hello,” he shouted, as he got off
carefully, needing both hands to han-
dle Helen.
“Hullo,
yourself,” called the man,
. who was apparently curious, but not
unfriendly. Then as Jim let down a
bar of the gate with his foot, this
resident of Blue valley leaned his rifle
against the wall and called to some
one within.
(Continued Next Week)
London’s Law Courts
TLondon’s famous law courts contain
about two and a half miles of corridors.
——
Local Woman Guilty
Of Liquor Violation
Johanna Wiesniski, gan aged woman
of Dallas township, was adjudged guil-
ty by a jury before Judge Fine this
week of having alcoholic liquor in her
possession and violating the liquor
1law. She was directed to appear in
court on Tuesday next for sentence.
Joseph Shupnick was the prosecuter.
Assistant District Attorney Hessel re-
presented the plaintiff.
tm
THE
EARTH
SHAKES!
The world is trembling . ..
mile-deep chasms split across
‘ts surface ... death and des-
olation spread from ocean to
ocean . . . millions are dying
. every day is a wild night-
mare . . . how can it end? see
The Dallas Post.
ROADSIDE
MARKETING
By T. J. Delohery
BOYS ARE.GOOD
SALESMEN
cs ON'T send a boy to do a man’s
job” may be good advice at
times, but numbers of farmers have
found that boys can do as good, if not
a better job of selling produce direct
to the consumer. Especially is this
true of town deliveries, where the
youngsters are known in the com-
munity and neighborliness and friend-
ship breaks the ice.
With the right kind of training in
salesmanship boys become very good
merchants. Some of them, when they
learn “their vegetables,” are on a par
even with the best farmer merchants,
being more willing to do everything
to please and accommodate customers.
In some counties roadside market-
ing is a part of the Boys and Girls 4H
club work, and vocational agriculture
teachers who use vegetable and fruit
growing as a class room subject are
carrying their teaching further by
having their students open up road-
side and other markets for the pro-
duce grown. Many of these teachers,
in preparation for the marketing work,
have studied roadside markets and
have obtained college bulletins and
other literature, the gist of which they
pass on to their pupils.
Selling, as a rule, is left to the boys
showing their adeptness for this work,
the others spread the word of their
market among customers, thus making
customers which older people might
fail to interest.
Up in Milwaukee county, Wiscon-
sin, William Hawthorne, who won the
state gardening championship in 4H
club work and who learned about sell-
ing to city consumers while carrying
on the project, is now on his own with
two rented acres for outdoor vege-
table production. During the winter
\ season he keeps his trade supplied
with what he grows in the green-
house he leases. William makes de-
liveries on his bicycle, ’
Mrs. Frank A. Burford of Warren
county, Illinois, sells home-made coun-
try butter to 60 families in town. De-
liveries require a little too much time
Boy Salesmen.
considering she does her own house
work, so she has hired Margaret
Swanson, her granddaughter, to help
her. Margaret, who is quite a candy-
maker, increases her earnings by sell-
ing her sweets to the same people.
She packs the candy in half-pint paper
containers,
The children were always running
to Harry Kleck for permission to sell
magazines, perfume and other things
to neighboring farmers. Permission
was refused, of course. But when the
wholesale price of eggs got down to
where Kleck’s flock wasn’t paying,
and hé began to “think out loud” to
his wife about new markets, the
. youngsters chorused “let us sell them
to people in town.”
Eggs were different from perfume
or magazines. People needed good
eggs such as Kleck produced, so he let
the kids try their hand. And what a
success they made of the job! Now
Kleck sells all of his eggs to con-
sumers, and, instead of delivering
them, the people drive out to his farm
outside of Emporia, Kan. He gets a
margin over wholesale, too. He paid
the youngsters 10 per cent for selling.
Robert James had to lease a larger
farm because he needed more vege-
tables to keep up with the demand
created by two boys who sold his pro-
duce from house to house. Now he
has a crew of ten youngsters ranging
from twelve to sixteen years of age,
who have pusheart routes of their own
making. The routes average 12 blocks,
both sides of the street.
When J. R. Robbins’ house-to-house
milk route got too big for him to han-
dle and supervise hi§ farm work, and
yet too small to hire another truck
and driver, he turned to boys to de-
liver his product. The youngsters not
only supplied his customers, but op-
erating in localities where they lived,
soon had 150 people in several Porter
county, Indiana, towns buying not only
milk but fruit, sausage, vegetables and
eggs. Fach boy works two to four
blocks.
“] use paper milk bottles,” said Mr.
Robbins. “Hence, there are no re-
turns.
“Our relationship with the boys Is
strictly business—that is, I'm con-
stantly giving them information on
salesmanship to read and I keep close
check to see that they don’t become
involved in their accounts.
“My boys are a bright lot and I
think they appreciate not only the
opportunity of making money but
learning something which will help
them when they are old enough to
shift for themselves. A milk route
offers a good chance to study human
nature and there is every indication
that the natural smartness of the boys
is helping educate them along business
lines.”
©, 1933, Western Newspaper Unica.
-Jackson-
A group of young people sponsored
by the Jackson Ladies’ Aid Society,
will hold a Hallowe’en Costume So-
cial on Friday evening, October 26th,
i nthe M. E. Church Hall. Everyone
is asked to come in costume, :
Trucksville spent Monday evening at
the home of Mr. and Mrs. Gus Splitt.
Mr. and Mrs. Irving - Ashton and
children visited relatives at Scranton
on Sunday.
is somewhat improved.
Mr. and Mrs. Dennis Bonning at-
tended the funeral of Peter Lameraux
of New York State on Tuesday of last
week,
The Citizen's
Township held it's first monthly meet-
ing of the winter on Wednesday even-
ing, October 3rr, at Barney's commu-
iy Hall. A good sized crowd attend-
ed. :
rel
WELL DRILLING
Drillers of Better Wells and
Dealers in Electric Water
Systems
Water Guaranteed Or No Pay
We drill at a set cost per foot or
guarantee a well at a set price.
CRESWELL DRILLING CO.
Kingston, Pa, Phone 7-4815
IRA D. COOKE
ENGINEERING Jy AY
SUCCESSOR TO 8
CHAS. H. COOKE, Dec'd
Phone, Dallas 126. Dallas, Pa. )
Farmers mo Suburhanites
Always, on your trips to Wyom-
ing Valley, you will find Weid-
ner’s restaurant at Main Street,
Luzerne, and Weidner’s Diner at
Kingston Corners, next to King-
ston Thetare, the friendly, econo-
mical place to eat. :
Lynn Haven
OYSTERS
In All Styles
Pickadilly Bar-B-Cue
Our Famous
Pies—Lunches
At!
WEIDNER’S
Two Places
198 MAIN ST. LUZERNE
and
KINGSTON CORNERS
Parking Lot Next to Kingston. |
Theatre
As long as you like—10¢
Curb Service at No Extra Cost.
National Ban
DALLAS, PA.
First
* * % i
|
MEMBERS AMERICAN
BANKERS’ ASSOCIATION
| * 3 =
|
DIRECTORS
Honeywell, W. B. Jeter,
Machell, W. R. Neely, Clifford W.|}
!Space, A. C. Devens, Herbert Hill.|}
* 8»
OFFICERS
C. A. Frantz, Pres.
D. P. Honeywell, 1st Vice-Pres.
Sterling Machell, 2nd Vice- Pres.
W. B. Jeter, Cashier
* kB
Three Per Cent Interest :
On Savings Deposits
No account too small to assure
| caveful attention
Vault Boxes for Rent
irst National Bank
PUBLIC SQUARE
WILKES-BARRE, PA.
United States Depository:
OFFICERS
Wm. BH, Conyngham .... Presiden
rancis Douglas .. Ex, Vice Pres.
KChes. 'F. Huber .... 1st Vice Pres),
IM. G. Shennan Vice Pres. & Cashier
DIRECTORS
Chas. N. Loveland
Fred 0. Smith
William 8. McLean, Jr.
Wm. H., Conyngham
Richard Sharpe
C. F. Huber
Francis Douglas
T. R. Hillard
Edward Griffith
Wm. W. Inglis :
M. G. Shennan
|
Safe Deposit Boxes for Rent
8 Per Cent Interest Paid On
Savings Deposits
$1.00 Will Start An Account
Mr. and Mrs. Newal Kester of Vhs
Mrs. Sarah Ashton who has been ill, He
League of Jackson
Professional Land Surveyor
ny
Penn’a Register Nc. 4104 Fo
R. L. Brickel, C. A. Frantz, D. P. iid 7
Sterking)}|
ath