HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, JULY 7, 1927.
PAGE THREE
f w r s l
Copyright by Harold Mm Onc& - kUUaMcl tKru AuAocnrtr Sarvior
CHAPTER XII.
Lowell win appalled at the swift
ness of Kennedy's deduction. He
stared nervously over the gray man's
head at Armitage. Armitage seemed
cool enough, but as a matter of fact
he was in the clutch of a mild form
of hypnotism.
"Well, I'm waiting," said Kennedy.
"Which, of you two took Jeanne Beau
fort away from me?"
"Kennedy," returned Lowell, "we
admit you to be the shepherd of this
flock; but sometimes you go a little
too far. We're not under your orders,
you know. And yet you storm into
this room and demand as if you had
authority! to know who snatched
Jeanne Beaufort out of your claws.
She came into the city, at the risk of
her life, for no other purpose than to
ask me the name of the man who mar
ried her. I refused; but I gave her
twelve hours in which to leave the
city. I consider that I acted as a
gentleman, and with honor, military
or civil, whichever you will."
"I too," said Armitage.
Kennedy, choking with insane rage,
whirled upon Armitage. "You were
the man?"
"Yes. And I would do the same
thing over and over, as many times
as you contrived to catch her. Is that
frank enough?" Armitage got up,
throwing off his dressing gown. "Let
us have the truth while we're about
it. What is the North or South to
me, so long as I love Jeanne Beau
fort?" None of them could ever recollect
how it started, that terrific contest
which carried all three of them here
and there about the room, toppling
chairs, Banging into bookcases, surg
ing into corners, two against one, the
two oddly enough, fighting desperate
ly for their lives.
At length, bruised, panting and dis
heveled, they drew back from this
Hercules. The battle came to its
end quite as abruptly as it had begun.
Kennedy staggered over to a chair
and fell into it, covered his face with
his hands and wept!
"Kennedy?" said Armitage.
"Yes, son! I 1 guess I'm quite
mad. It came over me with a rush
.... I had to do it. .. . Quite mad!"
Kennedy dropped his hands from his
face. "I might have killed you both.
I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. I'd
better be getting along dizzy."
"Drink this sherry," said Lowell.
Kennedy drank it and rose. Then
he picked up his hat and left the
room without turning his head.
On a certain spring morning, Mor
gan rode madly along the pike toward
the Beaufort plantation. He did not
stop until he reached the commanding
officer's tent.
"General," he said, "I have to re
port that the Yankees, ten thousand
strong, are within an hour's march,
perhaps less. Their cavalry will be
on us in half that time. Their object
is to outflank us and cut us off from
joining Lee."
"Five or six miles away?" cried the
General, astonished. "I received in
formation last night that the Yankees
were still in camp, thirty miles away."
"They have marched all night, sir.
I know because I marched with them.
I got away by the barest chance," said
Morgan, indicating his forehead. "1
could not cut for it any sooner. I've
been inside their lines for three days.
I was discovered by a man named
Parson Kennedy. He seized the near
est musket and tried to skewer me.
I caught the bayonet in time to pre
vent its going into my skull. I
knocked him flat with the butt. Any
body got a drop of whiskey? I'm
about done."
He sat down on a camp-stool, ac
cepted a flask, and drank rather deep
ly for one who wished merely a tonic.
The aide who had offered the whis
ky had seen men drink this way when
they sought for something called
"devil-may-care."
Morgan returned the flask, ripped
'the sleeve from his left arm and made
a rude bandage for the cut on his
forehead.
The General was already issuing
orders. The batteries were in posi
tion and a thousand men were to re
main with the guns to hold the Union
forces in check until the little army
were beyond the danger of a flanking
movement.
"Major Morgan," called tho Gen
eral, "will you take command of a
battery? This battery guards the
river. I want an hour."
"You shall have It, sir that is, if
they don't blow us out," Morgan sa
luted. After her escape from Parson Ken
nedy, an escape which she still cred
ited to Lowell, Jeanne returned to
the plantation and remained there.
Her military career was ended, fin
ished. But she did think of Armi
tage conBtuntly. She was thinking of
him this very morning as she wutched
the hurlyburly outside without fully
comprehending what it signified.
The general explained the situation
briefly. Sho ond her aunts must pre
pare at once to leave the house.
"Then there will be battle here?"
asked Jeanne.
"Yes. And this spot will be par
ticularly dangerous."
Jeanne turned gravely toward her
aunts. "You two go. Take the things
that you want."
"But you?" cried the aunts.
"I shall remain."
....
BOOM!
Jeunne saw a fountain of water
spring up from the river where the
ahull struck.
She saw the negroes scurrying
southward like a flock of frightened
ireese. Sho was alone. She went back
into the house Bnd brought out ban
dnires. basins, water and sponges .
Tha deep sound came from the
north again, once, twice, three times,
A shell burst in the garden. A tattoo
OUND
Harold
Illustrated bv Henrv
rattled against the side of the house.
Shrapnel, she thought.
She experienced not the least fear.
Indeed, her sensation was one of de
tachment; she was here and yet not
here; it was only her soul, her body
was elsewhere, and so nothing could
hurt her.
Through the broken window she
saw men in butternut running, turn
ing to fire as they ran.
A man pushed in through the door.
A bloody bandage was bound around
his head at a rakish angle; the grime
of battle was upon him. He ran to
the window and emptied his revolver
at the shadows pouring into the
cmoke. He turned back to reload
ond discovered Jeanne.
"God in heaven, you here yet?"
"Morgan," she murmured.
The house rocked. A rubble of
brick and mortar came piling into the
fireplace. A shell had struck the
chimney.
"So you wouldn't run away? That's
like you!" Morgan laughed sardon
ically. "We're beaten! But what of
that, sweetheart? While there's life
there's hope!" He laughed again.
In the face of this now dunger
Jeanne forgot all about thut outside.
The man was battle-mad, shorn of
civilization's veneer, reckless and pri
mordial. "Henry Morgan"
"Yes, I understand. You've found
out the truth. Yes, I was there in
Richmond that night. I was one of
the eleven. Can't you guess which
one w hat tnen r
He walked ove rto her. She stepped
behind the table. She was unarmed;
and she was no longer without fear.
'Do you know why I am here,
Jeanne? Have I not told you a thou
sand times that you were mine, mine?
Bah! Let the fools cut each other's
throats; you and I will begin the hon
eymoon!" He threw out his hand unexpected
ly and caught her by the wrist, drag
ging her from behind the tuDie. "it
is I, sweet wife, I, Henry Morgan!
Homo sum: I am the man!"
She struggled fiercely to release her
wrist and saw the symbol on the
man's forearm!
Outside were blue-clad figures,
among them one she knew.
Morgan was pressing her head back
to kiss her lips, when she screamed.
"John, John!"
Armitage came in through the bro
ken window, grim and disheveled. It
took him but an instant to under
stand. He seized Morgan and flung
him against the wall. Jeanne ran back
of the table again, her eyes wide with
terror.
"You?" cried Morgan, running his
tongue over his lips.
"Yes. Defend yourself. I'm going
to kill you, Morgan,"
The two men stared nt each other
with death in their glances.
Armitage was the first to move. He
suddenly realized, as doubtless Mor
gan did, that there could be no true
satisfaction in steel; he wanted to
tear and rend and brenk yonder man
with his two bare hands. And this
desire became registered in h ib face,
now no more agreeable to look at
than Morgan's.
Jeanne felt something vaguely pri
mordial stir in her heart. She knew.
They were going to fight for her;
and the victor would sling her over
his shoulder and make off with her
that is, if she could find no means of
defending herself.
The terror in her face resolved it
Relf into something akin to eagerness.
She dropped her hands from her
cheeks and caught hold of the edge
of the table.
Armitngc's blade rose and fell vio
lently but without gaining any advan
tage. Morgan was quite his equal, if
not his muster, with tho sabre.
They pushed each other backward
and forward. Armitage wanted his
man with his back to the fireplace.
Morgan was maneuvering to crowd
Armitage against the table behind
which Jeanne stood.
"Tho bricks!" cried Jeanne. 'Tush
him back!"
She was without mercy; she wont
ed Morgan to die.
"Thanks, sweetheart!" said Morgan.
His fury, roused to its highest pitch
by the sound of Jeanne's voice and
its significance, leaped beyond the
bounds of caution, for a few mo
ments Armitngo was hard put to it to
save himself. Ho felt his legs touch
a chair. He kicked backward. The
chair skidded and toppled.
"So," he said, as he in his turn be-
to
7n
Tav Lee
iran to force Morgan back, "so we
even stoop to forging a bit of tatoO'
ing, do we?"
Jeanne heard these words, but the
point in them passed over her. There
was only one clear thought in her
head that Morgan should die at her
feet.
"She isjnine!" cried Morgan. ,
"You lie! She never was and never
will be yours."
Armitage returned no answer. With
every ounce of jskill and strength he
possessed, he succeeded in driving
Morgan among the fallen bricks by
Morgan lowered his point and ran
the fireplace.
to the left. In his endeavor to follow
up the advantage, Armitage ran afoul
his own trap, tripped over a brick and
came to his knees.
Before he could rise, Morgan whirl
ed and was upon him, death in his
fcmile of assurance.
Jeanne cried out and leaned for
ward. And then a miracle happened.
There came a shattering of glass from
the window behind Jeanne.
At the same moment Morgan spun
on his heels, his face twisted with
that expression of intense surprise
which always accompanies a mortal
stroke. He tried to speak; his saber
slipped from his fingers; he stag
gered backward and fell headlong in
front of the table, at Jeanne's feet.
Out of the ruck of fighting beyond
the house, Fate had marked a wild
bullet as her own and had directed
it at Morgan's breast.
"What is it?" asked Jeanne, still
in the dark.
"A chance bullet through the win
dow." Jeanne was still the woman these
two men had fought for. She crept
i round the table and silently caught
Armitage's arm in her tense hands.
"He is dead?"
"Yes."
"I am tired." And she laid her head
against his sleeve.
His saber clattered to the floor, and
he did what the stone-age man would
have done; took the woman in his
arms and kissed her. And Jeanne re
turned that kiss.
Boom, Boom, Boom! They were
sending shells across the river, mak
ing their last stand. The tumult
about the house had ceased.
"Jeanne, how could I help loving
you? How could any man? But you
shall not live in dread and doubt any
longer, oath or no oath. I was not
the man who stepped out and first
offered to marry you. It was Mor-'
gan. He knew who you were.
"But tho mark on his arm!"
Madge L. Lockwood, ll, of Zeig
ler, . III., deteced counterfeit. $20
bills by the feel as she worked in
the local bank She tipped-off
Federal officers and a gana which
had circulated $400,000 of spurious
notes was caus;ht.
WW
Educated Fingers
Your Money Goes Farther
This Way:
People maintain checking accounts in this bank because
they want to get the greatest value from their money.
Their money goes farther that way. They get more ben
efit from it when they maintain a reasonably larg aver
age balance. Such a balance provides them with suffi
cient funds for emergencies, entitles them to greater
service from this bank and builds up credit so that, if
necessary, they can secure loans in proportion to their
needs.
Maintain a checking account here with a reasonably
large balance. It wilt help you get the most from your
money. And you'll be entitled to the maximum of mighty
valuable service from this bank.
Farmers & Stockgrowers National
Heppner BcHlk Orfn
"It was made recently. God knows
what dark idea he had in mind. Be
sides, the mark isn't quite identical
to the true one. See!" He rolled up
Morgan's sleeve.
"Girl, do you think that I'll ever let
you go again, now that I've got you?
What's the North or tlie South to you
and me?"
"Son!"
Parson Kennedy lurched in through
the shattered French window. He
was a grisly object, covered with
wounds, and the greenish pallor on
his unshaven face foretold that he
stood on the Brink.
"Jeanne Beaufort "
"Kenned i'." Armitage ran toward
the gray man, but Kennedy waved
him aside.
"I am dying!" A strange gentle
ness formed about his mouth and
eyes. "Jeanne Beaufort, forgive! I,
who once preached of the Lamb, have
lived as the Wolf. . . . Christ said:
'Forgive them, for they know not
what they do.' And I have not al
ways known what I did! , . . Poor
child!" He beckoned to Jeanne, then
to Armitage. "Kneel, children. God
has given you love; I will give you
benediction. Kneel!"
Wonderingly the two knelt. Armi
tage had never seen Kennedy's face
like this; never had there been that
benign note in his voice. Jeanne
dropped to her knees in a blind won
der. "Jeanne Beaufort, the man you mar
ried is dead. No, not Morgan," as
Jeanne mechanically turned her head
toward the quiet form by the table.
"It was Armstrong, the man who died
in your garden. Presently God will
judge us both together."
Kennedy stretched out his hands,
on eupon each head. From the gray
man's lips came with incredible even
ness of tone the marriage ritual.
When the last word was spoken,
there came a deep suspiration. The
hands slipped limply to his knees.
Both Jeanne and Armitage looked up
quickly.
Parson John Kennedy's stormy soul
had passed out into the quitt Harbor
of Eternity.
THE END.
Upright, respected, married,
a hard worker, a good job and,
with life holding out promise
of a happy and peaceful exist
ence, Edison Forbes closed the
book over which he had been
laboring. Carefully arranging
all records on the desk, he
turned, put on hat and coat,
switched off the lights, stepped
through the door, locked the
door, dropped the key in his
pocket and faced about into
the cool spring evening for
home.
Fate stalked him.
An automobile turned the
corner at a low rate of speed;
at its wheel a friend a fellow
townsman. Greetings were ex
changed; the car pulled up to
the curb and Edison Forbes
stepped to its side.
It was the last care free hour
of either of the young men for
many months to come. They
did not know that the chance
meeting was Fate'i sealing of
tragedy and heartaches.
Within three short hours
the grim hand of destiny had
placed them as pawns upon a
chess board and the story of
"Cedar Swamp" was begun.
Don't miss this interesting
serial complete in 12 chap
ters from the pen of Michael
J. Phillips. It starts next week
in the HEPPNER GAZETTE
TIMES.
Read the first chapter and
you will then read "Cedar
Swamp" every week.
MORGAN
Martin Bauernfiend met his wife in
Arlington Wednesday. She had been
consulting physicians in Portland for
some time.
A. F. and W. F. Palmateer, H. O.
Ely and C. L. Rodgers were in Arling
ton Wednesday, viewing the flood
damages.
Beulah and Geneva Pettyjohn ac
companied Mr. and Mrs. Cole Smith
of lone to Walla Walla Friday to
spend the Fourth.
Miss Eudora Hardesty of Heppner
spent the week end with her parents.
Mrs. Bert Palmateer and children
returned Sunday from the valley
where they had been, visiting for some
time.
Those who spent the Fourth at Par
kers Mill from Morgan were the fol
lowing: Mr. and Mrs. Dwight Misner,
Mr. and Mrs. Earl Morgan and family,
Elvin and Edith Ely, Rood and Deane
Eckleberry nml Mr. and Mrs. H. E.
Cool.
Mr. and Mrs. N. E. Pettyjohn and
sons spent Sunday at the coal mines
above Heppner.
Delbert Cool is working for Gus
Liebl.
A. C. Crowell had the misfortune
of losing five of his best milk cows
last week from getting into rye.
David Ely of Estacada, arrived on
Sunday to work during harvest. He
is now working for Alfred Troedson.
Mrs. George Mahoney was the din
ner guest of Mrs. Jim Hardesty Mon
day.
Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Rodgers and
Ralph Turner spent Monday at Lost
Valley.
Franklin Ely spent the week end at
La Grande with his wife, who is at
tending summer school.
Mr. and Mrs. H. O. Ely and daugh
ter Margaret and Mrs. W. G. Farrens
were the dinner guests of Mr. and
Mrs. Martin Bauernfiend Monday. The
day was Mrs. Bauernfiend's birthday.
The moth larva does but one thing
and does it well it eats and eats and
eats. Carpets, rugs, upholstery,
clothing, woolens and furs are riddled
with holes to satisfy the enormous
appetite of the moth larva. Fly-Tox
kills the moth, the eggs and the lar
va. Fly-Tox is the scientific insecti
cide developed at Mellon Institute of
Industrial Research by Rex Fellow
hip. Simple instructions on each
bottle (blue label) for killing ALL
household insects. Insist on Fly-Tox.
Fly-Tox is safe, stainless, fragrant,
sure. Every bottle guaranteed, (adv.
tow
FARES n
SUMMER EXCURSION PARES
IN EFFECT MAY 22 TO SEPT. 30
RETURN LIMIT OCTOBER31, 1927
ROUND TRIP TO
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mi
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MODERN smokers insist upon value received, and they
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"Hare a Camel!"
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