Heppner gazette-times., December 10, 1925, Page PAGE THREE, Image 3

PAGE THREE
OLIVER
OCTOBER
George Ban McCutcheon
v Coprtifhc, Ball Sradkata (WNfj Sarrlca)
SYNOPSIS
fHAPTER I. Oliver October Buter. Jr.
ni born on vile October day. Hli
parents were prominent In the commercial,
ocial and lulritual life of ih tn-n r
Kumler. Hli father wan proprietor of the
hardware store. The niitht that Oliver Oc
tober waa born a gypsy queen reads hit
i airier lortune and tella him what a won
derful future hit aon haa before him, but
after the reading, the gypay become! angry
and leaves the house in a rage after telling
Mr. tiaxter that his son will never reach
the age of thirty, that he will be hanged
lor a crime 01 wntcn be Is not guilty,
OHAPTER II. Ten years elapse and Oil
ver'i father is the owner of a business
block in the town. Mrs. Baxter died when
Oliver was Hearing seven. Josephine 8age.
wife of the minister, causes a sensation
when she leaves Humley to go on the stage.
She becomes a "star" and later goes to
London, where she scores a hit. Her daugh
ter Jane and young Oliver become greatly
attached to one another. After finishing
college, young Oliver accepts a position In
Chicago with an engineering company. He
goes to China on an important mission for
his firm. Upon his return he enlists in the
Canadian army.
PHAPTER III. The war Is over, Oliver
returns to Chicago and is told by his
employers that his services are no longer
required. He returns home. He hears Jane
Is in love with Doctor Lansing. Jane and
Oliver meet again, Oliver is reprimanded
by his father for not getting another posi
tion. Oliver threatens to leave bom.
PHAPTER IV. Despite Mr. Baxter's
pleading to Oliver to remain in Rumley,
Oliver decides to accept a position in Chi
cago. Mr. Baxter accompanies Oliver thra
a swamp on the way to the Sage home.
On the way they quarrel over Olivers re
fusal to stay in Rumley. Mr. Sage tells
Oliver his father fears the thing the gypsy
predicted and wants his son to stay home,
where he can watrh over him. Oliver de
cides not to leave him. Mr. Baxter falls
to return home and Is believed by some to
have perished In the swamp. Oliver tells
the authorities of the quarrel with his fa
ther, but they do not accuse him of having
anything to do with his father's disappear
ance. Oliver takes charge of his father's
business. Three months remain of the last
year allotted to Oliver by the gypsy queen.
Uncle Horace (jooch announces himself as
a candidate for suite senator. Friend , stnrt
a boom for young Oliver as candidate for
state senator against old man Uooch. Jane
forces Oliver to enter the race against his
Shylock uncle.
QHAPTER V. Oliver employs ditch dig
gers to drain part of the swamp where
his father is supposed to have disappeared.
Mr. Clown's campaign managers urge him
to withdraw from the race fur senator, as
they realise that Oliver is the most popular
candidate. Mr. Gooch refuses to quit. Rev
erend Sage is happy when his actress-wife
cables him tnat she is sailing for home.
Mr. Sage and bis daughter go to New York
to meet her. Mr. Gooch, convinced he
would lose the election to Oliver, plans to
try and intimidate him by demanding a
thorough investigation into the disappear
ance of Oliver's father.
CHAPTER VL Hundreds of persons are
at the depot In Rumley to greet Mrs.
Josephine Sage after an absence of 28
years. Jane notices Oliver la not in the
throng at the station and is told by Sammy
Parr that something of a political nature
must have kept him away. Oliver goes to
the Sage home.
pHAPTKR VII. The sheriff unwillingly
serves papers on Oliver after the prose
cutor refused to lay the matter of Mr. Bax
ter's disappearance before the grand jury
as requested by old man Goorh. but accedes
to his demand for an unofficial Investiga
tion. A few hotheads in the town talk of
tar and feather for Mr. Goorh. The de
tectives start digging in the swmp for Mr.
Baxter's body .
CHAPTER VIII. Oliver threatens to
strike Malone if he ever insinuates
again that he had anything to do with the
disappearance of his father. At a recep
tion given at Oliver's home Oliver tells
Jane that he loves her. She promises to
marry him. While out on the porch they
hear mysterious footsteps. Oliver tells Jane
Peter Hines boarded up hia cabin In the
swamp and had skipped town. They see a
light In the cabin. Jane's engagement to
Oliver is announced at the reception.
CHAPTER IX
Oliver May Withdraw.
TiHE ensuing three weeks were
busy ones for Oliver. He was off
"electioneering" by day and out
speochmaking by night in district
schoolhouses, in town halls and at
mast meetings held nt the county
sent. The opposition press, stirred to
action by the harassed Mr. Gooch,
printed frequent reports of their
search for old Oliver Baxter. They
made gensation out of two or three
minor discoveries such as the find
ing of an old straw hat in one of the
pools and the unearthing of a stout
spade handle at the edge of the
swamp not far from where the old
man and his son had parted company.
Malono and his gang of Italian la
borers were conducting the quest leis
urely. The chief operative was bored
admitted it to Oliver and Mrs.
Grimes and Lluie Meggs and(to the
high heavens besides.
Mid-afternoon of a windy day In
October it was the nineteenth, to
be exact he sat in the shelter of
the kitchen wing, his chair propped
against the wall, reading a book. He
yawned frequently and seemed to bo
havlnir irruttt difficulty In keeping his
pipe going. From time to time he
doted,
His partner, Charlie Whst'B-hls-nome,
was out In the swamp directing
the efforts of eight or ten men who
were sounding the scattered "mud-
holes" with long poles or digging at
random In sections whore the earth
was sufficiently solid to bear the
weight of man or beast. These men
wore now far out, beyond the wire
fence, within a hundred yards or so
nt the nnnil.
Mr. Malono's rest was disturbed
shortly before three o'clock by the
arrival of Oliver October. The two
had become quite good friends.
"Sav. Malono. would you mind call
Ing off those grnvodiggcrs of yuors
fnr half an hour or so? I am expect
ing a committee here at three o'clock."
"Suro," said Malone. He got up
slowly. "Hoy I " he shouted over his
shoulder. "Come out o' thntl Knock
off! It's four o'clock. In New York,"
he added In an aside to Ollvor. "Mr.
Baxter, It's all d d foolishness dig
vine un vour nlnce like this."
"Mrs, Grimes says the house Is
likoly to fall down on our heads any
mlnuto," said Oliver. "Sh notified
me this noon that our hired eirl
Lizzie Meggs, has decided to give up
her place unless your men fill up
some or tne graves they've dug in my
cellar."
"I'll have 'em put some planks over
those holes," said the detective. "That
reminds me. Now that they've stop-
ped work under the porch, you might
call off your watchdog. Give the old
boy a little much-needed rest."
Oliver walked to the comer. Jo
seph Sikea was sitting on the back
steps, hia coat collar turned up about
his throat, his aged back bent almost
double, hia chin resting on the mit
tened hands that gripped the head of
hia cane, hia wrinkled face screwed
up into a dogged scowl.
"Better step into the kitchen. Uncle
Joe, and ask Lizzie for a cup of cof
fee. Work's over for today."
"The h 1 it is," growled Mr. Sikes,
without changing his position.
"Let kirn alone," said Malone good
naturedly. "He's hatching out some
new trouble for me. As for Fink, he's
down there in the swamp from morn
ing till night, supervising the whole
blamed job.
"They are the best friends I've got
in the world, Malone, said Oli'er
earnestly.
' Well, we'll clear out go's you ran
have your committee meeting in
peace," said the detective.
"I have put it up to the county
headquarters, Malone," said Oliver in
an emotionless tone, "as to whether
I should stay in the race or with
draw."
"What do you mean, withdraw?"
asked the detective sharply.
Well, its only fair to give them
a chance to put someone else on the
ticket In my place if they feel "
Come off! You've got old Gooch
licked to a standstill, so what the
devil's got into you? We're not go
ing to find your father's body, my
boy."
"How do you know you are not go
ing to find it?" was Oliver's surpris
ing question.
Malone started. "'What has caused
you to change your tone like this,
Baxter?"
"It's getting on my nerves, Malone
I don't mind saying ao," said the
younger man, frowning.
I get you," said Malone, smypa-
thetically. "It does give a fellow the
shivers. But now about this getting
off the ticket. Don't you do anything
of the sort, Baxter."
Malone, I can feel it in the air
that a great many people believe I
know what became of my father."
Mr. Sikes, who had shuffled around
the corner, overheard the remark. He
fairly barked:
It don't make a particle of differ
ence what they believe, provided no
body is able to find the corpus delicti.
They've got to dig up your father's
corpse before- What in thunder are
you laughing at, sir?"
Malone, to whom this question was
addressed in Mr. Sikes' most aggress
ive manner, put his hand to his mouth
and succeeded in replying with as
straight a face as possible:
I've been reading an awfully fun
ny book, Mr. Sikes. It's about detectives."
There is no telling what Mr. Sikes
would have said to Mr. Malone about
detectives in general if the delegation
from headquarters had not arrived a
minute or two later.
CHAPTER X
The Corpus Delicti.
THk automobile came swinging up
the drive on the tail of Mr. Ma
lone s aeiensive explanation, uu-
ver hurried to greet the occupants of
the car. Mr. Sikes hobbled along in
his wake. Malone refilled his pipe as
he strode across the stable yard. In
the lee of the barn he scorched his
fingers. His gaze was fixed on the
swamp. Far out in the "danger zone"
a group of men were compactly
grouped. A solitary figure was run
ning toward the Baxter house, while
from the main highway to the right
of the slough a dozen or more scat
tered people were picking their way
gingerly across the intervening space.
The detective dropped the charred
match and started briskly down to
meet the runner. He was no longer
bored. He was an alert, vital, keen
sensed hunter of men.
Mrs. Grimes stood on the front
porch as the three committeemen en
tered the house. Mr. Sikes ambled
up as they disappeared through the
door. He stopped short in the gravel
walk just below where Mrs. Grimes
was standing. He felt that it was
necessary to lower his voice.
"We've only six more days to go,
Sercpty," he said. "This ia the nineteenth."
"Yes. He will be thirty on the
twenty-fifth. I hope you'll be satis
fied, Joe Sikes."
He pondered gloomily. "Setting
back there on the kitchen steps I got
to thinkin' about the last time I was
up here before old Ollie disappeared.
I wonder if you remomber what he
said to me and Silas, setting right
here on this porch."
"I remember the poor old thing
saving he couldn't go to sleep nights
because he was afraid a mob would
come up to the house and take Oliver
October and hang him for something
he'd never done.
"I guess maybe that was it. And
another tning: man t ne say no wouiu
not blame Oliver If he up and beat
his brainn out for letting that gypsy
queen lift the veil and cause all this
worry?
"What are you trying to get at, Joe
Sikes?"
"Oh nothin' particular. I just
thought I'd warn you not to sny any
thing about our talk that night, 'spec
ially what he said obout Oliver, beat
in' his brains out. I mean," ne added
sternly, "that you and me and Hilns
never heard him say anything like
that then or any other time."
"What's got into you, Joe?"
"I'm just giving you a few instruc
tions, Screpty, in cose anything does
hannon. You're so darned good and
conscientious, as the saying Is, thnt
I'v eworrlud myself sick over you. I
mean about swenrmg to a lie."
"I would swear to a million of
them," she cried, "if it would bo any
help to Ollvor October."
"Birds of a feather," said Mr. Sikes,
rathor proudly.
"Coma in and have cup of coffee,
Joe, said. she.
She came down from the porch and
together they started for the rear of
the house.
"Look out yonder, Joe in the
swamp, she cried suddenly, pointing
through the fringe of trees. "There a
a crowd "
"Serepty!" he moaned. "They they
have found something out yonder. I
feel it in my bones. The corpus de
licti. I guess I won't have any cof
fee. I'll just mosey out there and see
what a happened.
"Wait a minute. Isn't that Silas
Link coming across the swamp?"
They stood and waited. In due
time Silaa panted his way up the in
cline and came shuffling toward them.
Mr. Sikes stalked forward, followed
by Mrs. Grimes.
"Well?" demanded the former.
"They fished up a carcass,"
puffed Mr. Link.
Absolute silence except for the
painful wheezing of the last speaker.
"Ollie's?" asked Mr. Sikea at last
"No telling. Unrecognizable."
"It must have had clothes on," put
in Mrs. Grimes stoutly. "Wouldn't
you know Ollie Baxter's clothes if
you "
"Hasn't got any clothes on."
"No clothes on?" demanded Mr.
Sikes. "Then it can't be Ollie. He
had a new suit on."
Mr. Link hesitated. "That detec
tive says the chances are that who
ever did the killing stripped the body
and burnt the clothes," he said slow
ly, weightily.
A longer silence than before. Mr.
Link's listeners seemed turned to
stone. Finally Mr. Sikes moistened
his stiff lips.
"What do you mean, Silas, by by
killing?"
"If you feel sort of squeamish, Se
repty," began Mr. Link, considerate
ly, "maybe you'd better "
Tm not squeamish," retorted the
redoubtable little woman. "Go on."
'The1 top of the skull is smashed in
split wide open," announced the
newsbearer, in a hushed, sepulchral
voice. Then, apparently eager to get
it over with, he hurried on: "Could
n't have died a natural death. Could
n't have committed suicide. Some
body hit him on the head with a
heavy instrument. Most likely an ax
or hatchet. Buried six or eight feet
deep in a mudhole. They pulled up
a hand first with one of them poles
with a hook on it. Then they set to
work scooping out the hole wtih shov
els. Wasn't long before they got
down where they could "
Don't tell any more don't tell any
more!" quaked Mrs. Grimes.
Lean on me, Screpty," said Mr.
Sikes, who, if anything, was weaker
than she.
"They sent for the police and for
my men, went on Mr. Link. "And
they're telephoning for the sheriff
and coroner and everybody else. Look
at the automobiles rushing down
that way and people running on foot
and oh, Lord, Joe! If it should
turn c-ut to be Ollie it will it will
look mighty bad for Oliver October!"
singular and significant fact that the
heavy metal portion of the spade had
never been found.
And then came the startling rumor
that old man Baxter had gone to his
safety deposit box in the vaulta of
the bank three days before hia dis
appearance and had removed five 11000
Liberty bonds! Kumor, pure and sim
pie, yet accepted as fact by those who
roamed the streets. A grave, unan
swerable question, too, had to do with
the money ao lavishly spent by young
Oliver several thousand dollars in
cash. Where had it come from?
Simple aa rolling off a log! There
wasn't much doubt as to where and
how Oliver got his ready cash! But
to split hia own father's head open
with .a spade, and throw him into a
supposedly bottemless pit, and burn
his clothes!
For, now all those who thronged
the streets were saying that Oliver
October haa murdered his father.
The street leading to tne Baxter
residence waa alive with people cu
rious, silent, awestruck men and wo
men who stared intently at the win
dows. The sheriff had returned to the
county aeat after cautioning Oliver
to keep his head and await develop
ments. "It looks mighty bad for you, Bax
ter," he said at the end of a long in
terview, "but there's only one thing
for you to do. People don't want to
believe you killed your father, and
that's a big advantage. So it is up
to you to stand your ground and face
whatever comees. Don't talk. Keep
your trap closed. I called your uncle
up on the telephone just before I
came here this evening. He is com
ing over tomorrow morning to see if
he can identify the body. Of course
he can't. You aeem to be dead sure
that it isn't your father. So is Mr.
Sikes and Undertaker Link. You all
claim that your father was shorter by
several inches and had lost several
of his teeth. But your lawyer will
look after all these points. Just sit
tight, Baxter, and keep eool. Don't
leave town. Understand?"
The company in Oliver's sitting
room included the redoubtable and
venerable Messrs. Sikes and Link,
Judge Short ridge Mr. and Mrs. Sage
and Jane, Doctor Lansing and Mrs.
Grimes. Sammy Parr was expected.
He was to bring in the news of the
street.
Oliver, a trifle pale, but with a
stubborn frown on his brow, listened
calmly to the animated conversation
that went on around him. He sat be
side Jane on the aofa in the corner of
the room.
"I don't see how you can be so un
moved, so calm, Oliver, dear," whis
pered Jane in her lover's ear. "Just
think what they are talking about
and as if you were not here at all."
He stroked her hand. "I've been
thinking of something else, Jane."
"Of me, I suppose, and the silly no
tion that you have to release me from
my promise."
"I do release you, dear."
"I refuse to release you so that's
that, as mother says. I am ready and
willing to have father marry us to
night, Oliver."
"We will have to wait, dear," he
said rather wistfully.
(Continued next week)
The news spread like wildfire. Be
fore nightfall everyone in Rumley
knew that the body of Oliver Baxter
had been found and that he had been
foully murdered.
With darkness came the inevitable
gathering of excited, bewildered peo
ple in the downtown streets. Groups
of men conversing in lowered, guttur
al voices, discussing the astounding
and unexpected discovery. Women
and children hung about the edges of
these groups or hurreid from one to
the other, drinking in the varied
comments and opinions. They lis
tened to men putting two and two to
gether; they heard them connect
seemingly unimportant details and
weld them into convincing facts
for on all sides men were recalling
once vague impressions and giving
them the value of convictions.'
They were talking of Oliver Octo
ber's muddy shoes, of his strange be
havior on the Lansing porch, of his
unwillingness to allow the ditchers
to go beyond a certain point in the
swamp, of the rumor that Peter Hines
had heard the violent quarrel between
father and son, of the notebook found
in the grass on the slope leading down
into the slough, of the broken spade
handle (they scowled with the thought
of a blow forcible enough to splinter
a stout hickory handle) and of the
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