Newspaper Page Text
Scientists Find Relics
of Long-Gone Peoples
Far back among the mystic shrines
of Monument valley, in northern Ari¬
zona and southern Utah, there are
untold proofs of civilization existing
as early as 500 A. D., yet untouched
by archeologists, says T. H. Kelley,
field director of a group of Arizona
and California scientists, who recent¬
ly explored the 2,000-mile square
area.
Robert Branstead, a member of
Kelley’s party, risked deatti by slid¬
ing down a 40-foot rope from the
crest to a cave. It was located deep
in the solitude of Monument valley,
into which no white man has dared
to wander.
There he found what Kelley be¬
lieves were two pieces of pottery of
the basketmaker type, known to have
been made about 500 A. D. The
room he discovered had been dug out
of almost solid rock, much in the man¬
ner known to have been used at that
prehistoric date. No tools or imple¬
ments were found, however. The
entrance to the cave was partly
blocked by great bowlders that had
dropped into position and wedged
tightly.
The cave evidently had been the
resting place for animals during
past centuries. Many bones littered
the floor, and here and there was
scattered evidence of a death battle
between great beasts.
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CODE
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NORTH
▼ ▼ ▼
by
HAROLD TITUS
Copyright by Harold Titus
WNU Service
SYNOPSIS
Stephen Drake, with his four-year
old son, is rescued from a blizzard by
Jim Flynn, big timber operator, whom
Drake has robbed. Flynn forgives the
theft, and Drake, until his death, Im¬
presses on the boy, Steve, the debt they
owe “Old Jim." Twenty years later,
Steve meets "Young Jim” Fiynn, his
benefactor’s son. Sent by Old Jim, in¬
capacitated through an accident in
which Kate, his daughter, is tempo¬
rarily blinded, to take charge of the
company's—the Polaris—woods op¬
erations, the youth is Indulging In a
drunken spreed. Learning of Polaris’
dire straits, and hoping to do some¬
thing for Old Jim, Steve hastens to
the company’s headquarters. He finds
Franz, a scoundrel, plotting against
the Flynn interests. Worsting Franz
in a fist fight, the Polaris crew, by
lucky chance, assumes that he is
Flynn's son, and he does not disillusion
them, taking charge, as “Young Jim.”
A photograph of Kate Flynn, which
Steve finds, intrigues him immensely.
MacDonald, eccentric old Scotsman,
holds timber vital to the Polaris in¬
terests. Steve gains the warm friend¬
ship of LaFane, queer woods scout.
CHAPTER IV
— 6 —
It was difficult in those first days
always to present a front devoid of
surprise when addressed as Jim, al¬
ways to answer promptly when some
man called, "Oh, Jim!” always to re¬
member that he was supposed to know
more than any other there knew about
the Polaris situation. But, somehow,
he managed to play up convincingly to
the role he had assumed.
He and McNally walked in to Shoe¬
string to see a lawyer, one of the two
in town. They conferred with the
other who, they learned, was repre¬
senting Franz, and determined that
there was no hope of a quick and
reasonable settlement of the right-of
way stalemate there.
Whatever the reasons Franz might
have in mind, whatever his relation¬
ships with unfriendly competitors
might be, he surely was a factor to be
considered, Steve realized.
Where the man headquartered, he
did not know. He had seen him only
twice since arriving at Oood-B.ve: on
that first night when he fought him
down and, again, when he encoun¬
tered him with the Laird on the
lower river. Frequently he heard
others speak of having seen Franz
here or there and always it was with
the manner of men mentioning a per¬
son of consequence despite the fact
that Drake had quite broken the fel¬
low’s influence with the crew.
But another encounter with Franz
to add to the already heavy burden
of his animosity for the man known
as Young Jim was In the cards, It
appeared.
Stopping at the tieadquarters store
early one day for tobacco, Steve saw
an aged, wasted Indian seated on the
doorstep.
Old Tim Todd was busy selling
goods to an Indian girl and as Steve
stepped behind the counter to help
himself, his interest was caught by
her appearance.
Her racially flat face was a fine
ova! and the light bronze skin like
satin. Her large eyes were widely
set and they held on Steve as his gaze
ran her body, still slender but with
those voluptuous lines that are fore¬
runners of the grossness which would
accrue with years. A loyel.v young
animal, he was thinking, as he
reached for the can of tobacco, and
then looked back into her face again.
She was staring at him and some¬
thing like scorn and pride and affront
showed In her eyes. He had the con¬
viction that she had surmised his ad¬
miration and had put upon It the
usual construction.
“Mary, I ain't got any green,” Tom
Todd said, turning from the shelf on
which he kept his scant stock of
dyes.
“Give me blue and yellow,” the girl
replied. "I make green.”
She spoke with the broad vowel
values usual in Indians and also with
the careful Inflection of one who has
been schooled In a language other
than their own, and turned her hack
on Steve, he thought, with conscious
purpose.
He went out smiling sardonically.
These Indian girls, he told himself,
probably were justified in suspecting
the emotions behind the stares of
white men.
He paddled to the wood camp and
was there until noon. Then, starting
back, he encountered the Indians
again. And with them, tills time, was
Franz.
Their two canoes, floating side by
side, first attracted Ids attention.
Then a glistening paddle blade flashed
In the sunlight as the old man swung
' it. Franz whose back was turned up
ptreaui so lie could not see Drake's
approach, ducked, grttsp'.l the paddle
and pulled Ills canoe 1 user to the
other, gesticulating fiercely wlth x hls
free hand.
His voice was not clearly distin¬
CLEVELAND COURIER
guishable at first but In a moment,
when Franz turned from berating the
old man to address the girl, Steve
heard him say:
“No more d—n foolishness l Hear
that? You’re going back to the farm
now and stay there!”
The girl did not answer. She
looked steadily at the man and deep
anger smoldered In her face.
Franz wrested the paddle from the
old native’s hands and dropped It Into
his own canoe. Then, shoving him¬
self along, he roughly grasped the
girl’s wrist.
“Going to do as 1 tell you without
any fuss, or 've I got to herd you
back like a pair of strayed sheep?”
he demanded.
He twisted her arm and though
her expression betrayed no feeling of
pain Drake knew that it must hurt
severely and he called out sharply:
“Let her go, Franz I”
The man turned abruptly. His eyes
were pale against the angered flush
of his face and when he saw Steve
they flickered with confusion and his
lower lip drooped.
“I'd let her go, if I were in your
place,” Steve repeated, bringing his
canoe in against Franz’s.
“My place? What place is that?”
“Weil . . . right here beside me.
Is that an answer?”
“What the h—l’s this to you?”
“Not a great deal, except that you
are hurting her. Let her go, I’m tell¬
ing you 1 Didn’t you get me the first
time?”
Drake’s words were thick with a
quickly rising rage and he half lifted
himself as though he would fall upon
the other. Then, as Franz dropped
the arm and hitched about to face
him he added: “There! That’s con¬
siderably better.”
“If this is any of your d—d af¬
fair . . .” Franz began but Drake
gave him no heed.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked the
girl.
Her eyes were fixed on him and
both fright and suspicion showed in
their depths. She gave her head a
slight shake.
“Whatever it is, it’s my business,”
Franz declared hotly, “and you won’t
come horning in if you know what’s
healthy for you.”
“Healthy? For me?” Steve laughed
derisively. "I took you on once be¬
fore, Franz, and I know pretty well
what your threats amount to. You’re
"All Injun and No Mistake!"
getting rough with the girl. I don’t
like you and I don’t like that sort of
thing anyhow. Now, what’s the row?”
“Have I got to teli you in so many
words to go to h—1?”
Steve ignored this and addressed
the girl:
“Won’t you tell me what the
trouble is? There Is trouble of some
sort, of course. If you, too, say it’s
none of my affair I’ll get going. But
it seemed to me that, maybe, you
could use a little help here and there,”
He smiled encouragingly.
“We go to the Mad Woman,” she
answered simply. "My father is sick.
He wants to he In the bush. He”—
with a look at Franz—“tol’ me not
to go.”
“That’s it, eh? And Is it . . . that
is, has he any right to tell you what
to do and make you do It?”
He thought that something like
pride and, also, something kindred to
shame showed in her face. She hesi¬
tated a moment and then said :
“No.”
"That’s a lie 1” Franz cried.
“Haven’t I bought you two flour and
pork? Where’d you’ve gotten those
clothes you're wearing if It hadn't
been for me? Where’d your seed for
crops come from if I didn’t furnish it
this spring?”
“You got pay,” the girl said and
though she spoke dully—or perhaps
because of It—and although her gaze
simply smoldered, Steve read In those
three short words the whole, sorry
Story.
“Why, you’re crazy to take him Into
that country!” Franz burst out. “He’s
a sick man. He’s got his ticket. The
doctor told you that. Back In your
shanty he’ll keep warm and dry and
have something to eat and if you go
dragging him off Into the bush he’ll
just lie down and never get up!’’
The girl answered:
“Yes. He die. He know that. 1
know that. He wants to die in the
bush, In a lodge. Not In any house.
He wants that,” she said again as tf
that want justified anything.
“Think I’m going to let you get
away with that?” Franz demanded.
“After holding you two up ail this
time, think I’m going to—”
“Hold on!” Steve snapped. “Let
me talk a minute.
“Wbore've you been living?” he
asked the girl. “Where Is this shantj
he talks about?”
“By Shoestring.”
“Handy, eh?” Franz winced from
the scorn In his question and Steve
said to him: “Get on your way,
Franz! . . . Beat It! Get away from
these folks and let ’em alone to do
as they please 1”
He had let his canoe drift off but
now shoved the bow between the other
two craft.
"Get out 1” he said, grasping the
rails of the other canoes and shoving
Franz’s out into the current. “If you
bother these people again I'll make It
one of my jobs to run you over the
horizon, you skunk 1”
Until then Franz had make no com¬
ment; did not even remonstrate when
Steven shoved at his canoe. But now,
stung beyond discretion, perhaps, he
taunted:
“Want her yourself? Want her—’’
But as Drake drove his paddle
deeply to be close and seize the man
and retaliate for the Insult, Franz
grasped his own paddle and started
rapidly down the river.
“You keep right on doing that!”
Steve called, satisfied, though his
voice still shook with just anger. “I’m
going to keep a check on you with
this pair and If you give ’em any
trouble at all you’ll think h—l’s bust¬
ed loose for sure on the Good-Bye!"
Sulkily, Franz paddled on and
Drake turned toward the others. The
girl was watching flie departing canoe
ami although her face had the native
stolidity he thought he could read In
it, along with relief, the shadow of a
shattered dream.
"I don't think he will bother you,”
he said, “but if he does— Do you
know who I am?”
She did not answer; just averted
her eyes.
“I’m at Good-Bye. You Just ask
there for Young Jim If he tries to
make you any more trouble.” He
looked at the old man In the bow
who, beyond any doubt, was desper¬
ately ill.
“Is it, after all, really a good thing
to take him so far away when he’s
sick?”
“He wants to go,” she replied
simply.
“You’ve been to school, haven't you?
I can tel! from the way you talk.”
“I was four winters at the sister’s
school.”
“What’s your name?”
“Mary Wolf.”
“Well, Mary, wouldn’t you he better
off at home? I take it you've got
some crops in.”
“Some,” she said. “He can't work
corn now. I can. Not him. He don’t
like to stay home. He remembers
how to make birch canoe. He likes
that. He can make canoes ’til he die.
He wants to go by the Mad Woman.
Birch is good there.”
“But how’re you going to live? You
haven’t enough grub here to keep you
going very long.”
“Lots fish. Plenty rabbits,” she an¬
swered. -
Steve rubbed his chin. Certainly
she was a beauty, he remarked to him¬
self, and again realized that her eyes
were on him as they had been in the
store earlier that day. He had, too,
the feeling that once more she de¬
tected his thoughts but this time, If
that were true, she did not resent
them.
The old man began to talk excited¬
ly, looking and gesturing down the
stream to where Franz had disap¬
peared around a bend.
“What’s he saying?”
“He says Franz took his paddle.”
"Sure enough! Well . . . here,
I’ve got two. Take this. Good luck,
now, and If Franz follows you and
starts bothering you again just get
word to me.”
To this, Mary made no response
whatever. She did not thank him for
the paddle nor for the aid he had
rendered. She spoke a word to her
father and dipped her blade and as
though they had simply passed on
their river journey went on.
“All Injun and no mistake!” Steve
laughed to himself as he resumed
his homeward way. But he did not
laugh when his mind went back to
Franz. He realized that McNally was
right: that to give the man added rea¬
son for disliking him was to Invite
more trouble.
Back at headquarters, Steve went
to LaFane’s, got the fishing tackle the
man had mentioned, paddled to the
mouth of a creek below the store and,
until dusk, took trout and pondered
this and that.
He stopped at the store after dark
and sat for some time on the steps
talking with old Tim Todd. They
spoke softly, but their voices carried
In the still night. Almost any sound
would travel far in that atmosphere
and yet a canoe which had been lying
behind a point while Steve fished
made no sound as it passed the clus¬
ter of buildings.
After a time the man in the canoe
ceased paddling and let the breath
of a breeze carry him to the beach.
He stepped out in the reeds and care¬
fully drew his canoe In until it rested
on bottom and then with great cau¬
tion took the trail that led through
the thicket to Steve’s cabin. In hl»
hand he carried a gun.
At a moss-grown boulder which the
trail skirted, he paused, put down his
gun. and roiled a rock to the trail;
another, and still a third. He ar¬
ranged them in a sort of nest, with
meticulous care, and then took a ball
of stout cord from his pocket and un¬
wound it.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Ohio’* Greatest Flood
The Ohio floods in 1913 cost nearlj
500 lives, caused incalculable property
loss and rendered approximately 100,’
(XX) persons homeless. The actual ma
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Time Worth Only
What It Confers
Those Moments of Leisure
Not to Be Counted
as Wasted.
“Is there no time you can reclaim
from pleasure that really does not
give you much pleasure, from empty
talk at the club, from inferior plays,
from doubtfully enjoyable week-ends
or not very profitable trips? Do you
realize the value of minutes? A man
had a wife who always kept him
waiting a few minutes before dinner.
After n time it occurred to him that
eight or ten lines could be written
during this interval and Uo had a pa¬
per and ink laid in a convenient
place.”
One of the most deeply appreci¬
ated of our American women writ
ers, to whose attention the foregoing
was called, sees the matter from an¬
other angle. She says:
“This depiorer of ‘wasted time’
goes on to tell all this man accom¬
plished, over a period of years, In
those few minutes a day. A reader
sent me the quotation with the re¬
mark that all young people ought to
read it, that tiiey would get so much
more out of life if they did not waste
so much time.
“At the risk of being misunderstood.
T am not going to agree, I think we
have already heard so much about
the value of time, the dangers of
wasting it, the benefits of conserving
It, and what can be accomplished by
salvaging those few minutes here
and there—so much that we are In
danger of forgetting that time was
made for living, not life to save time.
“Time, like money, is only worth
what we get out of it. And I see so
many people in this hectic day so
preoccupied with the matter of get
ting the most out of their time that
they are not living at all.
“It is right that young
should be taught the pity of waste in
time as in anything else—the folly
of not taking advantage of the op
portunities open to them in their for
mative years for mental and bodily
Japanese Nation Not
Guided by Aristocrats
Japan today, says Current History,
present the phenomenon of a
staunchly monarchist country with
its leadership drawn from the ranks
of the humble. Of the six or more
men who now dominate the scene,
only one—Prince Kimmochl Saionji,
the elder statesman—was born an
aristocrat.
Premier Makoto Saito, sou of a
retainer of a feudal lord, was once
a page in a government office. Gen.
Sadao Araki, the war minister, be¬
gan at a little soybean sauce factory.
The finance minister, Viscount ICore
kiyo Takahashi, born of a jtoor court
artist and a parlor maid, first worked
as a cupbearer at a Buddhist temple
and then as an indentured farm la¬
borer in California. A poor stonecut¬
ter was the father of Koki Hirota,
foreign minister, while Mitsuru Toya¬
ma, the leader of the most notorious
of the reactionary ronin bands, was
still poorer.
No less remarkable is the fact that
most of these active leaders of a
youthfully vigorous people arc ad¬
vanced lit age. Only Araki and Hi¬
rota are younger than three-score
and ten.
Don't give up!
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KILL ALL FLIES si
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WNU—7 25—34
growth, of heedlessly for some fool¬
ish pleasures, turning their backs oa
the benefits that are open to them.
“B’t there is a time for work and
a time for play. And the constant
preoccupation with snatching for
profit every leisure moment, begrudg¬
ing time given to real leisure, is, to
my mind, the source of many nerv¬
ous and physical ills. I have seen
high-strung young people who hart
been Impressed witli the idea of ac¬
counting for every minute, restless
and nervous at wholesome recre¬
ations. I have seen them unable to
really rest, because their minds, al¬
ways on the minutes, could not he
attuned to relaxation. They had
been taught that rest can be achieved
merely by a change of occupation.
The tiling to be avoided as the
plague was to do nothing!
"Knowing full well the condemna¬
i tion 1 may be bringing upon my head,
I must say sincerely that one of the
lessons I have learned from many
years which never lost sight of the
value of a minute, is that one of tho
most wholesome, healthful and con¬
structive tilings we can do with some
leisure minutes, is just doing noth¬
ing!”
©. Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
Point to Remember
Should justice be really “blind,*
she would miss half the evidence.”
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•Powder ed^Saxolit
j "Tinkles ana other "' rn - oi,rna
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LIST 57 POINDS OF
FAT-BINT CUT
0811 01 FOOD
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POOR COMPLEXIONS
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Resmol effective medication of «
ok oou/ue..
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