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COPY RIGHT-HAROLD CHANNING WIRE «• * * * *- W-N-U-SERYICE
SYNOPSIS
Jim Colter, forest ranger, had been mys
teriously killed In the pursuit of his duties.
Gordon Block, hta best friend, takes oyer
Cotter's job, hoping to avenge his murder.
"Dad" Cook, forest suprlntcndgnt, warns
Breck that the Tlllson brothers, mountain
moonshiners, are opt to give him trouble.
Before leaving for his mountain station,
Breck buys an outfit and decides to attend
the public dance run by the Tlllsons In Lone
Tree. Breck dances with Louise Temple,
pretty "cowgirl” for whom he takes a liking.
Unknown to Breck, she Is being courted by
Art Tlllson, youngest of the three Tlllson
brothers. Angered by Breck’s attentions to
the girl, he picks a fight which ends inde
cisively when someone sets fire to the hall.
Breck and his chief set out for the mountain
station. Halfway, they are met by Sierra
Slim, moss-back mountaineer who is also in
the forest service. Breck learns from Sierra
that tracking down Jim Colter’s murderer
must be done cautiously. Cook, Breck and
Sierra continue their ascent of the moun
tains, They sight the Tlllsons, returning to
their hideaway. Next day. Cook sends Breck
and Sierra in one direction to repair the
telephone line, while he takes another. Si
erra tells Breck more about Louise Temple.
"That kid s a thoroughbred," he says. He
also believes that Art Tlllson Is not essen
tially "bad," but is the victim of circum
stances. Breck Is directed to go to Rock
House Meadow, his permanent base. On his
way, he Is the target of a pistol shot from an
unseen assailant. The bullet misses, but
bis frightened pack animals bolt and Breck
goes in pursuit. Finding a deserted cabin,
he takes shelter from the rain. A moment
later the three Tlllson brothers arrive and
Breck hides in the cabin loft. Breck hears
the three discuss a plot against his life.
Waiting his chance, Brock surprises the
brothers and holds them at the point of his
gun. Jud, the oldest brother, offers a bribe
if Breck will "make no trouble." Breck pre
tends to take the offer Into consideration,
lets the men go. Breck's duly is to take
count at the annual cattle drive at Rock
House Meadow. There he meets Louise
Temple who is running her own cattle.
Trapped in a narrow canyon before the on
rushing steers, Breck's quick action saves
her from being trampled. He takes her to
his cabin over Art Tillson's protest. With
nightfall, Louise, now recovered, leaves
the cabin and makes her camp In the mead
ow. Later, Breck rides over to see if every
thing is all right, finds Art Tlllson who tries
to pick a quarrel. Breck rides on and dis
covers a large herd of cattle being run
out of the meadow before the count. They
belong to Jackson, cowman who represents
all the ranchers in the cattle run. Breck
tells Jackson that the government laws are
to be enforced. The cattle count starts.
Feeling among the cattlemen Is tense ns
Breck turns back all cattle in excess of each
man's allotment. Jud Tlllson confronts him
with tfe bribe he had previously offered.
CHAPTER Xl—Continued
-10-
Old Jackson's hands fell angrily
about his saddle horn. “Dam’ rob
bery 1 They cost twenty-five dollars
down below.”
“All right, take them back there.”
Jud moved to depart.
Breck had remained out of the
deal, turning away while the two
talked. Now he felt Jackson’s eyes
boring into him, and facing the man,
it was as if he had been struck. No
eyes had ever viewed him with such
scorn.
They burned into his face for a
moment, then went to Jud. “Pay
me.”
Two thousand dollars in yellow
bills were counted out. Jud rode oil
to claim the herd. Jackson rolled
up the money and stuffed it into his
pocket with slow tense fingers.
At last he faced Breck, hard-eyed,
tight-lipped. “I’ve seen some graft
in’ government men,” he began,
“but you do beat ’em all to hell!
You with your talk of keepin’ rules
and playin’ these mountains fair for
everybody. By God ..
“Just a minute,” Breck cut in.
“Do you mind explaining what this
is all about?”
“Explain hell! Don’t nepd more
than a blind man to see what it’s
about. How come Tillson to have
this cash so handy? Of course you
didn’t throw in with him! Hell no.
You hold out our stuff and he just
happens to have two thousand dol
lars ready!”
Breck started to speak, but there
■was little enough for him to offer.
He couldn’t go into details of the
bribe. That itself would need con
siderable explaining, and would only
add a queer story to what these men
thought against him.
“Jackson,” he said, “you’re
branding me with a lie. In time
I’U prove it!”
For an instant the old man’s glare
lost some of its hard accusation,
though he wheeled away in grim si
lence.
Breck mounted Kit and sat alone
while the last of the herds vanished
out of Rock House Meadow. No
man came near him; nor the one
figure he watched intently. She
gathered up the cattle he had al
lowed to pass, and rode her blue
horse ad the bowl without a
look backward.
CHAPTER XII
At sunrise the next morning Breck
tan up the Stars and Stripes in front
of his cabin. Having done that, he
could almost hear a hum of wheels
and the click of Forest Service ma
chinery turning into place.
About seven he opened the iron
box and checked in to headquarters.
“How does the world look to you
now?” Cook asked.
“Better,” Breck answered. In his
report last night he had told the
ranger of his deal with the cattle
men, and had cursed the job that
forced him to make enemies.
“What’s in line for today?” he con
tinued, “patrol?”
“No; I’m not sending you on the
trail until tomorrow. Look over
your fire tools, sharpen up your axes
and brush hooks, and get things in
good shape. You might not have
time later. Get yourself settled and
feeling at home.”
“Suits me,” Breck agreed.
Ho spent the day with grindstone
and files, putting a razor edge on
double-bitted axes, and making the
long curved brush-hooks fit for any
man’s war. At noon his horses and
mule came to the fence gate near
by, thrust their necks over the top
and said something about lunch. He
fed them barley and they went off to
nibble at flowers in the pasture. Be
fore night he had his tool box ar
ranged for action.
Next morning, talking to head
quarters he asked Cook to send him
on patrol to Sulphur Creek.
“Take your time, son,” the ranger
answered. “We’re not ready for
that. Today you might as well ride
the Kern River trail. Look over the
country west of you—all that lying
between Sulphur and the Potholes.
There’s your worst fire hazard.
You’ll find some tourist camps on
the river. Go in and say howdy.”
Breck obeyed orders, inwardly re
volting, though he knew the old
ranger was guided by wisdom of ex
perience. So, day by day, he was
forced to put down his impatience
and work at the forest’s job.
He explored his district west and
south, talked with tourists over their
mid-day fires, climbed high peaks
and from that vantage studied the
geography of the maze of streams
and interlocking ridges. As he be
came more and more familiar with
this roof land, the Sierra Nevadas
lost some of the forbidding aspect
they had presented at first.
The approach of July meant
spring in the top country. Days
were warm, though nights remained
close to freezing. Now he rode
through meadows pufple with lark
spur; climbed long rock ridges in a
blaze of red snow flowers. At dusk
he returned to his cabin with eve
ning primroses opened in yellow
cups underfoot, filling the air with
sweet delicate perfume.
Repeatedly he found his thoughts
traveling eastward beyond the bowl
of Rock House. His gaze went often
to a trail that led up the notch to
ward a certain camp fifteen miles
distant. It seemed as if Dad Cook
had read his wish when he gave
the order one morning, “You had
better swing around by Temple
Meadow today.”
There was a blazed trail from
Rock House to Temple’s camp, but
Breck was in a hurry somehow and
rode Kit up a ridge and along its
crest on a route of his own. It was
half an hour before noon as he
crossed the last summit and de
scended into a wide strip of grass
land. A flag of cabin smoke came
from a clump of trees at the fur
ther end. He rode toward it rapidly,
his eyes searching for a cowboy who
was not a cowboy at all.
Two cabins stood in the trees, one
' old and weathered, with a low, sheet
( iron roof; the other of logs new
within the past three years, for
hewn surfaces still showed bright
’ yellow. Red and white checked cur
tains in the window of this last told
that a woman lived in it, and the
whole look around the outside was
of a woman’s neatness, with saddle
gear hung on wooden horses, lariats
’ coiled, pack canvas folded and‘piled
in the shelter of a pme.
The other was as plainly a man’s
shanty, where a man could kick
1 things about and enjoy the mess.
1 One window pane was broken and
stuffed with a gunny sack. A black
1 bear pelt, freshly skinned and salt
ed, was nafled oh the logs of the
front end. A low bench stood near
the door, with tobacco cans litter*
1 ing the ground under it.
It was from this cabin that Breck
i saw smoke rising. A door opened
! as he came out of the woods and
i crossed a short clearing. He recog
• nized Louise Temple, though not the
girl he had been picturing,
i She wore a dress today; some
thing short, dark green like the for
est, with the red of snow flowers in
it; and somehow he was meeting her
all over again.
She smiled, holding up her hand
to him even before he dismounted.
“Hello, Ranger. Sorry I didn’t see
1 you after the count.”
1 He wondered if she meant it. “I
was pretty busy,” he said, as if the
explanation should come from him.
i “Things were happening that day.”
“Yes; weren’t they!”
He swung down and met her anx
iously. “You think—”
Louise checked him with an im
patient wave ai her hand. “Some
times 1 find it best not to think at
all.”
“One’s mipd is never blank.”
“Minens . . . often!”
“But you’re bound to think once
in a while,” Breck laughed, then
added seriously, “I don’t want you
to believe what Jackson has said of
me.”
A searching look came into the
girl’s eyes. “The cattlemen think
it, and that’s what you ought to con
sider.”
“Let them,” Breck answered.
“Right now I value your opinion, not
theirs.”
Sharply Louise shook her -brown
head.
“My opinion is the least impor
tant, Gordon Breck.” Impatience
that was so much a part of her na
ture flared openly. "Don’t you un
derstand that? You can’t work up
here with these men against you.
They may be wrong but they’re
powerful. If you’re a square-shoot
er, you’ve got to prove it.”
Breck stared at her. In some
way, he could not tell how, per
haps in her eyes, or voice, he caught
a meaning beyond her words. She
spoke of cattlemen, but it was as
if she were asking him to prove his
square-dealing to them—and to her
self.
“Why do you talk to me like
this?” he asked.
With a quick little laugh she lifted
her face to hifn. “Because you are
so helpless!”
Helpless! He had the impulse to
kiss her mouth and then spank her.
So that was it!
“You take a big chance, young
lady,” he grinned. “Do I look so
weak?”
She answered with dark eyes
sweeping over him eagerly. “No,
I can’t say you do!”
They both turned as a horseman
trotted out of the timber and rode
toward them. Then Louise darted
into the cabin. Breck heard a rat
tling of stove lids and saw smoke
increase from the chimney.
“That’s Buster,” she said on com
ing back, “hungry as a coyote and
on ttme to the dot. He’s my fa
ther. Maybe you’ve heard him
called Tom Temple.”
Remembering that Temple was
an invalid, Breck watched with con
siderable wonder as the man halt
ed at a tie rack, threw himself from
his saddle and reached the ground
on one foot, while bearing most of
his weight with a grip on the horse’s
mane.
“The old dear,” Louise said de
votedly. “He does get around.”
She waved as her father looked
up. “Come along, Buster! Steak’s
on the fire and we’ve got company
for dinner.”
Temple turned his horse into the
pasture, picked up a cane and ap
proached across the clearing. “How
dy, Ranger,” he said, offering his
hand with no word of introduction.
“I was thinkin’ you ought to come
and give us a call.”
“Glad to do it,” Breck returned,
and at once he knew where Louise
acquired her warm personality.
Tom Temple was the sort to be
marked in any gathering. Although
an injury to his left hip drew him
a little to that side, he still retained
a vigorous bearing, and when he
sat upon the bench, showed none of
his handicap. But the lines of his
face, even when he smiled, told of
suffering, and his hair was snow
white.
Breck could sense the battle of a
hard-working man suddenly reduced
to camp chores. He wondered if
Temple had ever gone to a good
surgeon. There was an army friend
of his who had done marvelous
things with fractured bones, and a
case like this . . .
“If you men don’t come and get
Pocket Knife Has Lost Favor and the
Old-Time Whittlers Have Passed Away
The old-fashioned pocket knife
with which the small boy of a gen
eration ago carved willow whistles
and played mumble-the-peg appears
to have had its heyday. Either that
or the simplification of modern in
dustrial production has reduced its
models more than half, according
to the evidence of hardware cata
logues, notes a writer in the Chi
cago Daily News.
The volume of sales for pocket
knives has not kept pace with the
increase in population in the last
three or four decades, sales offi
cials report.
“Our latest catalogue lists 30 se
lections among pocket knives,” said
one, “whereas our 1910 catalogue
listed 104 different models. I don’t
think that the boys or men of today
feel the same pride in possessing a
pocket knife as did those of the pre
vious generation.”
Where, years ago, the lad who
owned a two or three blader with a
stag-horn handle considered himself
something of a “big shot,” today
the average young man seems satis
fied with a small ornamental knife
on a watch chain. As for the “tough
guy” of today, he most likely car
ries a toy gat instead of the old
fashioned “toad sticker” that
snapped open when you pressed it.
That expert of the pocket knife,
the whittler, seems to have dis
appeared, too. There was a time
when every neighborhood had a
whittler or two who could make a
length of chain out of a piece of
pine, or maybe fashion a full rigged
ship and put it into a small necked
bottle. But these experts are hard
to find nowadays.
An exception is a Chicago man
it I’ll throw it away!" Louise had
entered the cabin ahead of them.
She stood now in the door, an apron
over her dress, threatening with a
bread knife.
Temple laughed. “She means that
too! We’d better go in and eat.”
Dinner was set on the bare boards
of a slab table. A platter full of
thick steaks, a bowl of mashed po
tatoes, then canned fruit, and big
round loaves of home-made bread.
Grub for a man! Breck felt that
food had never looked nor tasted so
good.
He sat across from Louise, Tem
ple at the end, and they talked of
many things but not of cattle and
grazing. There was a reason, Breck
surmised, though if the man held
any hard feeling over enforcement
of the permit rule, he covered it well
beneath his hospitality.
The manner Louise had with her
father gave Breck a new perception
of herself. She was sympathetic,
understanding, yet never once pam
pered him in ways that would only
have emphasized his crippled condi
tion.
And Temple was proud of his girl.
His eyes followed her, always bright
with a strange eagerness. Over
their dessert of canned peaches, he
said, “You won’t find many cow
hands like the one I’ve got, Rang
er!”
Breck looked across at Louise
laughingly, though serious in his an
swer: “I’m beginning to believe it.”
“Ain’t no man on the range can
beat her ridin’ or ropin’,” Temple
went on. “Just you wait till we
have a rodeo after saltin’ time—al
ways in the top money, she is.”
“Now Buster,” Louise checked
him. “Be careful. You know last
year ...”
“They judged you wrong, kid!”
Temple declared hotly.
“Where do you have this rodeo?”
Breck asked.
“Here on the meadow—end of this
month or first part of August. Every
outfit in the mountains rides a man
or two. Better aim to be on hand.”
Breck promised he would.
They sat at the table until the
sun had passed the door and was
beginning to slant through a west
ern window. Reluctantly Breck
thought of the trail to Rock House.
“Hate to do it,” he said at last,
“but I’ll have to move on.”
As the girl’s father stood up and
walked from the door, Breck lin
gered with Louise, helped clear the
table, and watched with a growing
intensity of feeling as she paused be
fore the mirror to give a little in
definite push and pat to her brown
hair. Then she came to him and
they went outside together.
Temple was not around, but Breck
saw a thick canvas roll tied on his
saddle skirt, and knew that it was
the cattle country’s goodwill offer
ing—a present of fresh beef. He
could count this man his friend.
After untying Kit, he walked with
Louise toward a gate in the fence
that circled the cabins. Her face
was averted and she did not speak
as they approached the opening.
Breck reached to pull back the
bars; lifted one and put it down.
He slipped his hand down over
hers and the pressure of his fingers
was answered. He could have taken
her in his arms, but she gently
moved away and pushed back the
poles. It seemed a gesture for him
to go.
Mounting, he rode through, said
“Good-by” and passed on toward
the forest. At its edge he looked
back. She had remained near the
gate. The poles were still down.
Her very poise showed how intently
she watched him, and when he
turned, she waved with a quick ea
ger movement of her whole body.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
who has become known as the “king
of the whittlers.” Whenever he finds
a piece of suitable wood, of what
ever kind, he immediately starts to
carve something out of it. But he
is an artist, compared with simon
pure whittlers who just whittle.
Another thing you don’t see much
of nowadays is the knife that fea
tures several tools with it. In the
old days you could get knives with
various combinations—screwdriver,
awl, auger, wrench, scissors, punch,
buttonhook, file and pruning and cut
ting blades.
Corn a Valuable Plant
Corn is native to the Americas—
before Columbus it was unknown in
Europe. Research indicates that it
first grew on the high plateau of
Mexico, and from there its cultiva
tion and use spread to Central and
South America. When white men
first explored the interior of the
Western continents they found corn
being raised from lower Canada as
far south as Peru. Though little but
white and yellow corn were seen in
the United States, there are varie
ties of many different colors—red,
purple, pink, brown, blue, black and
variegated. The Peruvians cultivate
a variety with very large kernels
so large that, when boiled, they are
eaten singly as we eat grapes. Be
fore the white man came, certain
families in each tribe were entrust
ed with the cultivation and breeding
of corn and the maintenance of dis
tinct colors—which would indicate
that the Indians understood polleni
zation and other cultural processes.
Corn not only supplies man with
food but also with starch, glue, cer
tain kinds of dyes, syrup and other
products.
What to Eat and Why
C. Houston Goudiss Offers Practical Help in Planning
Meals That Avoid Hidden Hunger; Illustrates
Right and Wrong Methods of Menu Building
By C. HOUSTON GOUDISS
A GENERATION ago, homemakers approached the prob
lem of feeding their families with but two objectives:
to put weight on their children and to send adults away from
the table with their appetites appeased. If the child failed
to gain satisfactorily, or if his teeth were crowded and sub
ject to decay, he was said to “take after his Uncle Abner”
or perhaps to have inherited $
the poor teeth of his maternal
grandmother. And if adults
were chronically tired or suf
fered from “nerves,” that,
too, was blamed on circum
stances that had nothing to
do with the diet.
No one had ever heard of hid
den hunger! For nutritionists had
not yet startled the
world by demon
strating that food
may satisfy the ap-
S petite and yet fail
I 0 eec * • • •
I 1 the absence of mi
[ jpg || nute amounts of
m minerals and vita
mins may b® re-
s P ons ‘bl® f° r a *° n s
■ra* * rain deficiency
fPIII diseases which
cause untold mis
ery and are responsible for men
tal and physical inefficiency.
Planning Meals Scientifically
Today we know that a definite
relationship exists between food
consumption and bodily activity,
and that normal individuals can
usually control body weight by
regulating the amount of fuel
foods in the diet. We know that
minerals and vitamins play a pow
erful part in building and main
taining sound teeth as well as
healthy nerves; and that we can
build resistance to disease, defer
old age, and even lengthen the
span of life by choosing our food,
not merely for its appetite appeal,
but for the qualities that contrib
ute toward what nutritionists term
a balanced diet.
The Balanced Diet
Every modern homemaker
therefore owes it to her family not
to plan meals at random, but to
take into consideration the seven
factors that science has deter
mined' to be essential for top
health. These include: protein
for building and repairing body
tissue; carbohydrates to produce
quick heat and energy; fats, a
more compact form of fuel; min
erals, which serve both as build
ers, and as regulators of body
processes; vitamins A, B, C, D, E
and G, which act as regulators,
and help to prevent the various de
ficiency diseases; water, which
serves as a vehicle by which food
is carried to the tissues, and cellu
lose or bulk, required for the nor
mal functioning of the intestinal
tract.
A Day's Food Plan
The various food essentials will
be supplied if the three daily
meals include a quart of milk for
every child, a pint for each adult,
which may be served as a bever
age, with cereals, in soups, sauces
or made into desserts; an egg
daily, or at least three or four
weekly; one serving of meat, fish
or chicken, usually at the main
meal of the day; a second protein
food, such as cheese, baked beans
Gay Fruit Motif for Towels
» » « * ■ M K « « ■ '
(\T--1 TW , *
«««m |\ mu
■ "~"-iir~ \&*
Pattern 6037
Here’s your chance to add color
to the kitchen in the simplest of
stitchery. Do the large fruit in
applique or outline stitch and let
the cross-stitch (4 and 8-to-the
inch) give the finishing touch.
Make them for the bride-to-be but
here’s fair warning, you’ll want to
keep them yourself! In pattern
6037 you will find a transfer pat
tern of six motifs averaging 4 by
10 inches and the applique pattern
pieces; color suggestions; materi
al requirements; illustrations of
stitches used.
To obtain this pattern, send 15
S>
or nuts, usually served at lunch
or supper; two vegetables besides
potatoes, one of which should be
of the raw, leafy variety; two
servings of fruit, and at least one
serving of a whole grain cereal.
By adhering to this plan, you
will help to supply your family
with the necessary proteins, min
erals, vitamins and cellulose. Fuel
foods may be added byway of
breadstuffs, macaroni, rice and
other cereals; butter or margarine
and the fats used in cooking.
Common Errors In Menu Planning
Common mistakes in menu plan
ning are a concentration of too
many proteins or carbohydrates
in one meal; the failure to include
adequate bulk byway of fruits,
vegetables and whole grain cere
als; and the massing in one meal
of too many foods that are high in
fat.
The following menu, for exam
ple, contains more protein than
necessary, and too little bulk, yet
it is typical of the dinners served
in many homes: Hamburger
Steak, Baked Beans, Potatoes,
Stewed Corn, Custard Pie.
Since both meat and baked
beans are rich in protein, they
may well be served at separata
meals, as indicated by either of
the following combinations: Ham
burger Steak, Creamed Potatoes,
String Beans, Lettuce Salad,
Fresh or Cooked Fruit. 6r, Baked
Beans, Stewed Tomatoes, Cabbage
Salad, Custard Pie.
In the first menu, the beans, po
tatoes, corn and pastry are all
high carbohydrate foods. To pro
vide additional bulk, as well as
to reduce the amount of carbo
hydrate, it would be advisable to
serve a green vegetable such as
string beans, and choose fruit in
stead of pie for dessert. It is as
sumed, of course, that eggs would
be given in some other form dur
ing the day.
Since baked beans contain both
protein and carbohydrate, we omit
potatoes in the third menu, and
serve a food rich in vitamin C—
the tomatoes, and add a bulky
raw vegetable byway of the salad.
It's Balance That Counts
It requires no more time or ef
fort to prepare nutritionally cori
rect meals than those which lack
balance, nor is it more expen
sive. For elaborate meals can lack
balance, if they are deficient ii(
minerals, vitamins and bulk, whi 1 a
those composed of such simpit
foods as bread and milk, an<)
stewed fruits may provide
abundance of the protective subt
stances which satisfy the hidden
hunger of the body.
My plea to homemakers is to
give less thought to the prepara
tion of elaborate recipes, and
more thought to supplying the food
values that will create abundant
health and vitality. In that way,
I believe we shall take a real step
forward in human progress.
© —WNU—C. Houston Goudiss—l939—57
cents in coins to The Sewing Cir
cle, Household Arts Dept., 259
West 14th St., New York, N. Y.
Please write your name, ad
dress and pattern number plainly.
A J*OCTHEtt, H o*B3I9IUS
MOROLINEfI
SNOW-WHITE PETROLEUM JELL* U'*l
Nothing Is Lost
Nothing is lost, neither thought*
nor even dreams. They remain
the soul of the earth, in order to
produce other thoughts other
dreams.—Pierre De Coulevain.
osueslivK
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