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Jlsk Me Jlnolher
A General Quiz
The Questions
1. How is most of the boundary
- between the United States and
Canada marked?
2. What is the meaning of
llanos; llamas; lamas?
3. Which tree is the emblem of
peace?
4. How fast does a rainstorm
travel?
5. What is your maxillary pro
tuberance?
6. What physical feature makes
Minnesota the northernmost state
of tlie Union?
The Answers
1. By a series of more than 3,000
monuments.
2. Llanos are extensive plains In
South America; llamas are camel
like animals; lamas are Buddhist
priests.
3. The birch tree is the emblem
of peace.
4. Ordinarily rain clouds travel
with the wind at the rate of about
15 or 20 miles an hour.
5. Your jaw.
6. Lake of the Woods county ex
tension.
NEVERSLEEP
ON AN “UPSET
Neutralize excess stomach
acids to wake up feeling like
a million
To relieve the effects of over-indul
gence escape ‘‘acid indigestion”
next day do this: Take 2 table
spoonfuls of Phillips’ Milk of Mag
nesia in a glass of water —Af
BEDTIME.
While you sleep, this wonderful
alkalizer will be sweetening your
stomach ... casing the upset-feeling
and nausea . . . helping to bring
back a “normal” feeling. By morn
ing you feel great.
Then when you wake take
2 more tablcspoonfuls of Phillips’
Milk of Magnesia with orange juice.
That is one of the quickest, sim-
Elesl, easiest ways to overcome the
ad effects of 100 much eating, smok
ing or drinking. Thousands use it.
But never ask for “milk of
magnesia” alone always ask for
*‘P/ii7/ips"*Milk of Magnesia.
PHILLIPS' MILK OF MAGNESIA
* IN LIQUID OR TABLET FORM
Patience Brings Peace
Patience ought to be the first
attribute of the man who loves
peace.—Paul Painleve.
1 J MINOR SKIN IRRITATIONS
MOROLINEfI
SNOW-WHITE PETROLEUM JELLY
Fate of Extremes
The fate of all extremes is such,
men may be read, as well as
books, too much.—Pope.
jggßSSijlr
SATISFACTION GUARANTEED!
Blcickman'i Midicatod Llck-A-Brlk
Blackman's Slock Powder
Blackman'i Cow Tonic
Blackman's Hog Powder
Blackman'i Poultry Powder
Blackman'i Poultry Tablets
Blackman'i Lice Powder
HONE FINER—LOWER COST
GET RESULTS OR
YOUR MONEY BACK
BOY FROM YOUR DEALER
STOCK MEDICINE CO.
CHATTANOOGA, TENN.
relieves
CuC COLDS
nhn Headaches
W W and Fever
LIQUID. TABLETS dne to Cold*
SALVE, HOSE DROPS In SO mlnntee.
Try “Bnb-My-TI ran” -a Wonderful liniment
| IVEW IDEAS]
aDVERTISEMENTS ere your guide
, to modern living. They bring you
today’s NEWS about the food you eat end
the clothes you wear. And the place to
find out about these new things is right
in this newspaper.
1. . '
Mountain man
featui&L tylciixHt Serial
oh. By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE
CHAPTER I
—l—
fell softly over the High
Sierras. Tom Cook, “Dad" Cook to
all comers, and district ranger of
the Inyo Forest, sat with boot heels
on the edge of his desk and watched
the play of light beyond his station
door. A picture was framed there;
Mount Whitney, bold, forbidding,
flinging its black pinnacle upward
against a red fan of sunset. As
Cook watched, blue eyes beneath
gray brows squinted thoughtfully.
H is rugged form in khaki and flannel
slumped a little to one side in that
altitude a riding man often takes to
relax saddle muscles.
It was the first of June, and al
though from this same office chair
Dad Cook had witnessed some fif
teen other first of June evenings, the
scene held him as spellbound as if
his gaze had just now struck upon
the mighty peak.
Fifteen years ago the Sierra Ne
vadas had flung down their chal
lenge to him, when, from the Mo
jave Desert, he had faced the sheer
eastern slope and felt a grim defi
ance in the granite wall.
Whitney melted slowly into the
darkening sky. Cook continued to
stare at it, while his thoughts from
long habit took up things brought
about by the first of June.
This month marked the beginning
of the field season. Headquarters
must be moved from the winter sta
tion, here in the valley town of
Lone Tree, and established some
thirty miles up the pack trail. Soon
he would sign on his summer rang
ers and scatter them over the area.
There would be fires to fight and
cattle range troubles to settle; and
this year there would be something
more.
Cook surveyed his boot toes sol
emnly. "I’m sure going to miss Jim
my Cotter!” His brown fists tight
ened on the chair arms. He sat
fixed, tense, his gray head bent. It
was seven months since Jim Cotter
had vanished, murdered somewhere
up on top.
When Cook’s eyes lifted and
turned again to the door, a man
was standing there, towering black
ly in the dusk. He almost filled the
opening, tall-figured, with close
bronze hair beneath a limp Panama,
a little stooped from the weight of
a hand bag he carried.
He spoke at once. “Good eve
ning, Dad.”
The strong full-toned voice sound
ed familiar. Cook stood up; him
self a big man, angular, erect, firm
ly planted on his two feet, with only
gray hair showing age. Suddenly
he exclaimed, “Well, if it isn’t you!
Just a minute now, I’ll remember
your name.”
He looked into a young face, less
than thirty, white, too soft, though
strong brown eyes with a quiet hu
mor made up for that. On the
whole he liked what he saw.
“Breck!” he remembered. “That’s
it. Gordon Breck. Well, son, how’s
the movie business in Hollywood?
Or was it ponies you were backing,
down at Tia Juana?”
“A little of both,” Breck admit
ted, grinning. “But I’m through.”
“You?” Cook questioned, “through
with the game? Why I thought the
last time you were up here ...”
He ended abruptly.
Gordon Breck had put down his
hand bag and his hat, and now ap
proached the desk where Cook
stood.
“Go ahead and say it,” he urged.
"The last time I was here to see
Cotter 1 came like a young sport,
all smoked up over spending a lot
of money and the big things I was
doing down below. 1 called Cotter a
fool for wasting time in the forest
service. I couldn’t see any use in
it. Maybe I can’t now. No matter
That isn’t the point.” He paused,
breathless from his outburst.
Cook resumed his chair, produced
a pipe and began to fill it. “Of
course you know about Cotter, be
ing his friend."
“More than a friend,” said Breck,
controlled now. He dropped into a
seat across the table from the ran
ger. “I owe him something. That’s
why I’m here.”
Lifting his pipe to a lighted match,
Cook glanced over the bowl and into
the young man’s eyes. Something
was in them that had not been
there before. They were narrowed,
darkened, and behind that darkness
was fire. It seemed for an instant
to change the whole expression of
Break’s face. He was no longer
soft-looking.
“Well then,” Cook asked, “just
why are you here?”
Breck shot a glance backward to
the open door and waved one hand
in the direction of Whitney. Only a
tip of the peak showed now, rising
across the black valley bottom to
catch the last faint gold of evening.
“I want a job,” Breck said, “up
there. I want Jim Cotter’s place if
you haven’t put anyone in it yet.”
Cook surveyed him, puzzled and
scowling. “You aren’t a mountain
man.”
“I wasn’t raised here, if that’s what
you mean,” Breck answered. “But
neither was Cotter I can ride a
horse and pack a mule—at least I
could once. I’m handy with a gun if
necessary. Don’t those things about
make me a mountain man?”
“No,” said Dad Cook, wagging
his head, “you’d need something
more. Look at me. I can go
down to your city and jam myself
in a flat and eat off a white table
cloth, but I’d hate it and wouldn’t
get along with folks there. Just so
a man has got to have his heart in
these mountains or they’ll get him.
He's got to love ’em and fight ’em
and all the time understand that he
wouldn’t be happy anywhere else."
The old ranger hesitated, with a
slow smile lighting his eyes. “Think
I’m a simple fool, don’t you?”
“Not quite,” Breck laughed. “I
don’t have your feeling, Dad, that’s
all. Mountains are just rocks to me.
“I want to work. Will you sign me on tonight?”
Anyhow, as far as the job goes, I
can learn and learn fast.”
“I believe it,” Cook asserted.
“College man, aren’t you? Traveled.
Family money. What I don’t see is,
why you want the job at all. It’s
short pay, hard work, and likely to
be dangerous.”
“You’ve just named my reasons,”
Breck returned. “Short pay but
something I earn myself. Hard work
—God knows I need it. Dangerous,
the same danger Cotter faced.
There’s the truth of my coming up
here!"
“What do you mean, son?” Cook
asked, his voice lowered.
For reply Breck extended one arm
with the under side of his wrist up.
There, close together, were three
small blue dots.
“That’s a fraternity mark,” he
said, “made when Jim Cotter and
I were in college.”
“Seems to me I did notice it on
him,” Cook offered. “But he never
explained the meaning.”
Through a moment of silence
Breck sat with head lowered, eyes
riveted on the three marks.
“Jim couldn’t explain,” he an
swered. “Neither can I, 'for of
course it is a fraternity secret. Each
dot has a purpose and the total of
the thing, you might say, is blood
brotherhood; stand by one another,
here and hereafter.”
Breck shrugged, dropping his
hand upon the table. “I wasn’t
strong on this sort of tie. Cotter
kept it up. We were pretty close
and he was the romantic one. Then
in the war he showed it was not all
romantic talk. Understand? I owe
him something. I never had a
chance to live up to my part of the
pledge until now. I’m looking for
the man who killed him.”
Cook’s gray brows lifted. “Know
the man, do you?”
“Good God, Dad,” Breck replied
muRDER m r nnnonni forest
Gordon Break joined the U. S. Forest Service to avenge the murder
of his best friend, one of Uncle Sam's forest guardians in the
West's High Sierras. It's an easy task to find the murderer ... a
harder one to bring him to justice. Does Gordon Breck get his man?
You'll thrill to the adventures of a month in the life of a forest
ranger, written by a man who lived the life himself. You'll say
that "MOUNTAIN MAN," Harold Channing Wire's new story, is
one of the best "westerns" you've ever read.
Start it in this issue!
tensely, “if I did, I wouldn’t take
this way to get on his trail! He’s
one of a certain gang. I do know
that.”
“How?”
Breck drew a letter from his coat
pocket, folded it at one paragraph
and stood up to switch on a light.
“This is the last word I had from
Cotter, seven months ago. I’ll read
a part.
“ ‘There’s something brewing up
here, Gordon. I mean that two
ways. A white mule outfit is mak
ing straight poison by the barrel;
but that’s out of my department and
I haven’t gone to much trouble over
it. I did make one arrest. The fel
low was freed and back here in less
than a week. All I got out of the
deal was an enemy. So I’ll let
prohibition take care of itself. But
when a gang of men find they can
get away with one law, they throw
down all of them. Things have been
happening—too much to tell you in
a letter. Anyway I’m not certain
until I work it up a little more. I’m
going out tomorrow on a live hunch
and hope to know straight facts by
night.’ ”
Breck folded the paper and re
turned it to his pocket. “Cotter
One Hundred Workers Handle Ordinary
Suit of Clothing Before Man Gets It
More than 11,000 threads about
one-eightieth of an inch in diameter
are woven together in your suit.
Next time you suffer from insomnia
try counting them.
If they were all joined end to end
in a single yarn, its length would be
13 miles, 20 rods, poles, or perches,
or just about as far as most people
could comfortably walk in a day,
according to George Race, writing
in London Answers Magazine.
There are 3V4 yards of cloth, 56
inches wide, in a suit, without lin
ings, and it weighs from 2Vz to 4%
pounds according to its purpose and
quality. An average weight is 18
ounces per yard.
It takes 55 minutes to weave a
suit length, and for weaving it the
weaver earns sixpence. The cloth
is woven in 65-yard lengths, each
weaver looking after two looms.
From the sheep’s back to yours,
your “gent’s smart three-piece” has
undergone more than 30 major proc
esses and operations, traveling per
haps from South Australia to the
North of England—over 12,000 miles.
At least a hundred workers have
been directly employed in evolving
that fancy-striped serge you are
was killed that day,” he said quiet
ly, "as near as I can figure it. His
hunch was good and he found out
too much.”
Silent, rigid, Dad Cook sat with
the pipe stem clenched between his
teeth. Breck remained standing,
face set, fingers running through
his bronze hair then down as if to
wipe a vision from his eyes.
‘‘l didn’t come as soon as I heard
about it,” he said at last, “because
the season was ended and you were
leaving the mountains. Now you’re
sending summer rangers up there.
Am I going?”
Cook leaned back heavily in his
seat. “Cotter didn’t tell me as
much as he put in that letter. Some
of us could have helped.”
“Jim liked to play a lone hand,”
said Breck.
“I know; and he acted a lot on
impulse.” Cook shot a stern gaze
across the table. “If I read you
right, you’re some quick yourself.”
“Perhaps.”
“That trait is to a man’s advan
tage sometimes,” Cook continued,
“but in this business he’s got to
think a long ways ahead. Cotter
was a good ranger. I didn’t intend
to waste another one up there in
the forest until I had found out who
killed him.”
“You might as well put me on the
job,” Breck insisted.
“You’re the only man who knows
lam Cotter’s friend—or of any bond
between us. Someone would have
to take his place. I’ll learn the job
and work at it. This other can be
my own personal affair, if you like.”
Impulsively, Breck bent across the
table. “Dad, I’ve got to get busy!
I’m pretty much at loose ends.”
Breck paused to light a cigarette,
striking the match savagely.
Cook watched him with concern.
“In trouble?” he asked. “Money,
drink ...”
“No, not that. It’s, well—Oh, the
devil! I’ve just fallen out of love.”
“And that,” the ranger agreed,
his eyes twinkling, “is more of a
shock than falling in.”
Breck grinned. “Shock nothing.
This was just a fade-out. Anyway,
I want to work. Will you sign me
on tonight?”
“Not so fast,” said Cook. “You’ll
find this man-hunt is no personal af
fair to be settled on the side. It
may mean getting one, or hall a
dozen, or rounding up the whole
range. Did Cotter ever write about
the Tillson brothers?”
“No, unless they were the ones
he meant in this last note.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
wearing. Many more have been
employed indirectly in clerical and
transport work.
One new suit gives work to maybe
a dozen firms, and out of the 10s.
or so paid for a yard of cloth a
penny or twopence, or even a frac
tion of a penny, goes to this man
and that—to wool grower, shipper,
merchant, woolcomber, spinner
weaver, dyer, and cloth merchant.
Twelve months may elapse while
the wool is traveling from the
sheep’s back to yours, for it may
be held in stock at several stages
of its journey. This is a much long
er time than that taken by the
world’s record speed suit, made in
connection with a wool trade fair
held in Bradford.
On that occasion, fro.m sheep’s
back to man’s back was completed
in the amazing time of 2 hours and
10 minutes. From shearing the
sheep to finishing the cloth took
100% minutes, and the suit was
made up by a tailoring factory in
29% minutes. One hundred and thir
ty-four people were needed to make
this record, 40 of whom were em
ployed in tailoring the cloth. And if
you fancy one like it the cost was
100 pounds sterling.
MINERAL LANDS
LANDS in probable Oil. Gas and Mineral
producing areas. $1.50 per acre. Write
J. M. BARKER, BRADLEY, ARKANSAS.
PHOTOGRAPHY
ANY EIGHT NEGATIVE KODAK ROLL*
finished in double size prints. Send 250
BOLLYWOOD STUDIO, Owensboro, Kj!
Cross Stitch and
Crochet for Linens
i Jkf,*
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Pattern No. 1872.
Use this cross stitch and crochet
on scarfs, towels and pillow cases
and have linens you’ll be proud of.
Pattern 1872 contains a transfer
pattern of eight motifs ranging
from 5 by 13V2 to 7>Vi by 7% inches;
directions and chart for the filet
crochet; materials required; illus
trations of stitches.
Send 15 cents in coins for this
pattern to The Sewing Circle,
Needlecraft Dept., 82 Eighth Ave
nue, New York, N. Y.
Hoboes of Today
According to Jeff Davis, a prom
inent hobo, there are 40,000 girl
hoboes and 1,000,000 man hoboes
on the road. Where these hoboes
end up is a matter of conjecture.
It is likely that some of them be
come disgusted with the life and
go into some form of business or
take up a trade. Others continue
the life until they die a natural
death or are killed in an acciden
tal manner.
All for All
No man for himself, but every
man for all.—William Booth.
CONSTIPATED?
Don’t Let Gas, Nerve Pres
sure Keep You Miserable
When you are constipated two things
happen. FIRST: Accumulated waste* swell
up the bowels and press on nerves in the digej
live tract. This nerve pressure causes head
aches, a dull, lasy feeling, bilious spells, loss
of appetite, and dirtiness. SECOND: Partly
digested food start*, to decay forming GAS,
bringing on sour stomach, acid indigestion,
and heartburn, bloating you up until you
sometimes gasp for breath. Then you can •
eat. You can't sleep. Your stomach is sour.
You feel tired out, grouchy, and miserable.
Adlerika gives you the DOUBLE ACTION
you need. This efficient carminative eathartio
relieves that awful GAS almost at once. It
usually clears the bowels in less than two
hours. No waiting' for overnight relief.
Sold at all drug stow
Fatal to Thought
Incessant scribbling is death to
thought.—Carlyle.
WNU—7 5—39
flComplete Garden
For*!.™
(Regular Value $2.2*)
Vi lb. Stringless Green Pod Bush Beon
1 4 lb. McCoslan Pols Bean
1 ox. Asgrow Wonder Beet
1 pkt. Long Island Wakefield Cabbage
I pkt. Hastings' Eden Gem Cantaloupe
1 pkt. Imperator Carrot
1 pkt. Hastings* Cabbage Collaxd
1 pkt. White Spine Cucumber
1 pkt. Iceburg Lettuce
1 pkt. Stone Mountain Watermelon
1 pkt. Perkins Green Pod Okra
1 pkt. Prizetaker Onion
lb. John L. Extra Early English Peel
1 pkt. World Beater Pepper
1 ox. Rosy Gem Radish
1 pkt. Yellow Crookneck Squash
1 pkt. Everbearing Globe Tomato
1 ox. Shogoin Turnip
(18 Varieties Vegetables—Value $1.70)
ALSO:
1 pkt. California Blue Bell
1 pkt. Japanese Sunflower
1 pkt. California Poppy
1 pkt. Blue Bedder Echium
I pkt. Mixed Candytuft
(5 Varieties Easily Grown Flowers,Valus oOa]
Complete Garden —total value
lor $l.OO, Postpaid. Send for it TODAY#
H. O. Hastings, Box 4088, Atlanta, Qa.
My 1939 Catalog sent free on request
