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About Heppner gazette-times. (Heppner, Or.) 1925-current | View Entire Issue (Aug. 18, 1927)
HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, AUGUST 18, 1927. PAGE THREE F WICEBAR, Michael J. Phillips Illustration by Henry Jy Lee Copyright Michael V. Phillip Released thru Publishers Autooutar 6rvlce The Leading Characters, SCOOTS LIB BEY, a worthless char acter, who has smashed his machine into another car, killing its lone occu pant, a woman, rorbes companion and Libbey quit the scene hurriedly, leaving; the former alone to face constable who reasons that Eddie, with the scent of whiskey about him, must be connected in some way with the accident. Accordingly Forbes is arrested. EDISON FORBES, a young resident of Scottdale with an inherent crav ing for liquor, is held for the death of a woman who has been killed by a bootlegging truck. Circumstantial evidence points to Forbes and rather than tell the truth of the epUode, which would clear him but cast an other friend in a bad light, he stands trial and is sentenced to a long term in prison. The governor of the state, an old friend of Eddie's father, be lieves him innocent and pardons him shortly after his arrival at the jail. Back in Scottdale he and PATSY JANE, Eddie's pretty wife, agree that public sentiment runs too high against him. Accordingly they migrate up north to some land that has been in the family for years. Set tled in their log cabin ISAIAH SEALMAN, a neighbor, pays the Forbes a visit and intimates that there are some back taxes for the young couple to pay. Sealman offers to give Eddie a job after he goes down to Long Portage, a nearby town, and learns about the taxes. The next day while walking about their property they discover a mys terious mound that contains out crops similar to salt. At the tax of fice Forbes learns that the back taxes amount to over eight hundred dollars and that the certificates are held by a Chicago capitalist who is eager to obtain the property. Eddie has five months to pay. A few days later he helps a booze truck out of the mud bnd is presented with a bottle of whiskey which he hides before walk ing over to interview Sealman. Not finding him in, Eddie imbibes too freely of his liquor and as a re sult Patsy warns him that the next occurrence of a similar nature will result in her depurtui ,. Seilman hears of the trip to the tax office and makes a generous offer for their place, but Eddie, scenting something in the air, declines. Sealman refuses him work and several weeks puss. Then one day, Eddie's resolves weak ens and he accepts a ride aboard an other liquor truck. He drinks heavily. CHAPTER XI Shanghaied. Eddie lay for many hours in a stu por so profound it was deathlike. For other hours he was in a delirium shot through with the misery of real ill ness. His head ached. His flesh pro tested as though it were being torn from his bones. The bones them selves seemed packed with pain. He was immured in a violently-moving hell which screeched and clattered be neath him, and tossed him unfeeling ly about. It was early night of the second day before consciousness returned. He was very weak, and his head throbbed violently. He was able after many attempts to sit up, bracing him self against a wall or partition while he groped in the maze that netted him. First, he was in darkness, clangor ous and complete. Second, he was in a. railway freight enr in full motion. How he got there he could not recall. Think as he would, his head between his hands, he could remember noth ing after the first drink on the rum cruiser. It was a long time before he could stand up. His trembling fingers re vealed that he was prisoned in a nar row space running between the two doors in the center of the car. There were cross wise partitions holding in place a cargo that pounded and rasped with the motion of the train. Fur ther explorations told him the cargo was hardened bolts about four feet in length. He tried the two doors. Ho was able to slide each of them a little way. He could not open them, be cause they were sealed. It was ap parent that they were now in the out skirts of a most ideal railroad center. Pencils of twilight from successive strectlamps pierced the darkness of the prison flcetingly. The train rat tled interminably over switchpoints. The droning sound of their progress proved that long lines of cars par alleled them on sidings. Resolution overcame weakness. He had to get out! He crawled up the partition on his eft. There was space for his body between the topmost lay er of bolts and the car roof. He wrig gled forward, toward the little door, high up, in the end of the car. He found It, but it, too, was locked. He could not budge it. He inched backward to the center of the car, crossed the open space, and mounted the other partition to the piles of timber in the rear half. These tiers were not piled so high. He was soon examining the rear end door. It was fastened, but Beemed weak. He found a slender bolt which could be han dled as a battering-ram. Half-sitting, half-crouching, he drove It against the little door which had been cracked across in the past by shifting cargoes. Soon he had broken away two of the boards com posing it, so that he could rench out, twist off the seal and remove the hasp, The door slid back easily. He was free. But another problem presented Itself. The train puffed steadily onward. The wheels made evil noises on the many curves, and the cars leaned sharply to tha new direction. How could he, in his weak ened condition, crawl out the narrow doorway, find the grab-irons and de scend them in safety? He was sure to fall between the cars and be ground to pieces. Fortune Inclined to him in friendly fashion. There was a long whistle the train slowed, stopped. He could hear a blast from the locomotive, and the men calling to one nother. The train was standing by a long freight shed, whose platform was illuminated by many arc-lights. Seals were being broken; there was a rattling of hand trucks. The stop was a permanent one. He crawled out of the little end door dizzily, found the grab irons, and descended in the darkness on the side opposite the platform. He was in a narrow aisle between two lines of cars. He turned in the direction from whence he had come. The terminal was Chicago. This he learned from electric signs when the yards broadened out beyond the end of the train. He was several hundred miles from Long Eortage. The first problem was food; the second, to get back to Patsy Jane as soon as possi ble. Remorse scourged him as he thought of her alone in the cabin in the wilderness, worrying over him, torn with suspense at his absence. He thrust his hands into his pock et. Suspicion became a certainty. The rum-runners had drugged and shanghaied him. To make results more effective, they had robbed him of the few dollars he had had. Their motive was a mystery which could be left to the future for solution. Mean time, there was satisfaction in the thought that he had opened an ac count in the Long Portage State bank, a few days previously, and deposited nearly all his money. He carried a dollar bill for emer gencies in a small pocket of his trous ers, and this had been overlooked. When, on the windows of a dingy! store on the street beside the rail- from the chimney of the cabin. All was right with the world. With Pat beside him he could make good and show the world that its persecution was as unfair as it was cruel. He would get a job, redeem this home in the wilderness they had both come to love. And he would never drink again! CHAPTER XII A Fight. He began to note ominous signs. Ttye place had a down-at-the-heel and neglected air. There was an unsight ly litter by the woodshed. Papers were strewn about the sandy yard. Something was wrong. He veered cautiously to bring the garage be tween the open back duor and him self. He did this after u cry of greet ing had died unuttered on his lips. This didn't look like Patsy Jane. It was as squalid as a city slum. His teeth set themseit'es hen he noted the composition ?f the heaps i. rout the woodshed. It was his own furniture and bedding, bundled out, unsheltered. He applied his eye to a crack in the rear of the garage. A small car, much more battered and rusty than his own, with soiled giviny sack bundles on the sagging running boards was within. He guessed correctly that the oc cupant of the cabin was cooking a late breakfast in the kitchen. The door of the kitchen opened to the south and there was no window on the west side, from which he approached. He guined the door without detection. As his shadow fell across it, the sole occupant of the small room look ed up from his task. He was a mean faced, narrow-eyed man with a stub ble of beard on his lined cheeks. He was in the garb of the motor-tramp, soiled cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled up; khaki breeches, stained with grease, worn canvas leggings; and stubby brown shoes. A cigarette hung from his lip. He was in the act of turning a strip of bacon in the frying pan. He clinched still more tightly, his head bur rowing downward and inward. road grade, he was invited to "Eat Here." he descended. He spent sev enty cents for coarse filling food. I It revived him wonderfully. When he took to the grade again his aches and pains had grown more subdued. His head was clearer; he was no longer so terrifyingly dizzy. Fortun ately the night was warm for April. After two hours of walking a lumber yard invited him. He crawled through strands of barbed wire and laid down on some sheltered planks, odorous with the scent of the north. He slept soundly. Winning his way home was not easy. He wos lnexpenencea in steal ing rides. He walked many miles. Eating was a problem, though not a serious one. When he asked for food at back doors, he offered so earnest ly to work for it that he was rarely refused. When the work was efficient ly performed, the grateful housekeep er usually gave him a package of food for the coming meal. He passed through Scottdale at night on the bumpers of a fast freight. It was early, but the little town slumbered peacefully, its arcs illum inating empty streets. Nostalgia and self-pity possessed him as he clung to brakebeam and rumbled through the place where he was born. He yearned toward it, even though it re garded him as a criminal, an outcast and a failure. He dropped from an empty car at daybreak, the sixth day of his ab sence, in the Long Portage yards. He was tired and hungry and dirty; but he could not wait, He hurried up the cement sidewalk which flnnked the broad main street. His footsteps clicked hollowly in the hush that set tles on the world just before sunrise. He was well beyond the town when the sun appeared on the winding san dy track ahead of him, sentineled in its arising by two stubs of what had once been giant pines. Fatigue slowed his footsteps th the waist of the long tramp. He saw no one; there was no friendly motorcar to offer a lift. Ho scanned the hori zon ahead with increasing eagerness as the sun mounted, and signs told him he was approaching the end of his journey. There, at last, was the ridge marking the western boundary of their land, from which he could see the cabin. He hurried until he was almost running. A sigh of thankfulness welled up; Patsy Jane had not carried out her threat. Smoke was rising The man was startled, but his quick recovery showed he was not unpre pared for a visitor. The fork on which the bacon was impaled clattered into the pan and the man dodged into the livingroom through the door behind him. It was his intention to close it, but he was not quick enough. Ed die's body crashed against it; his foot thrust itself into the narrowing crack. Seeing that he had failed, the motor-tramp withdrew his weight sud denly, so that Eddie was overbal anced and fell into the livingroom on his hands and knees. The stranger retreating to a bunk in the farthest corner, had snatched up a rifle. Now he covered Eddie, the weapon against his hip. Eddie came slowly to his feet. He was careful to take no forward step. For the man's eyes were deadly. Here was a killer, who would shoot with out conscience and without mercy if it seemed expedient to shoot. "What are you doing in my house?" growled Eddie. "Your house? Say, you got a nerve!" was the insolent response. "This old shack is empty, goin' to be sold for taxes, and you talk about 'your' housel It ain't yours aB much as it is mine." "You lie!" snapped Eddie. "It's mine. Get out of here, quick." The deadly eyes narrowed. "Bet ter not call me a liar, sport. Go on, yourself, before I have to drop you." Eddie moderated his tone and his language. The stranger had the up per hand. "See here, my friend, you're in wrong," he said. "I own this place. My name is Forbes. They'll tell you in Long Portage it's my property. I've been away; that's all." Since Eddie kept his distance and seemed disposed to argue, the tres passer accomodated himself to the situation. He shifted the rifle from his hip across his body, holding it slightly higher than before. It was still reasonably ready for service. "I'd say you been away," was his jeernig comment. "No one's lived here for years. I was here last four, five weeks. I brought that stove. This place is as much mine as it is yours." "You know I'd been here," replied Eddie. "You saw my stuff, and threw it out." "No one was here when I come," replied the man, doggedly. "I like it here. I'm goin' to stay. You better move." His eyes had wavered about the room as he spoke, and Eddie took the slender chance offered. He flung him self across the room and hard against the man's stomach. The latter, an in stant too late, saw his danger and tried to swing the gun. But Eddie was inside, his arms around the oth er's body. He forced the tramp against the wall. His adversary shifted his tactics. His arms, holding the gun, were free. Eddie was under them- A hand near either end, he raised the weapon to crash it down crosswise on hn as sailant's head. Eddie sensed the move though he could not see it. He clinch ed still more tightly, his head bur rowing downward and inward. The weapon struck him a glancing blow on the back of the head, the main force expending itself harm lessly on his back. Ti;e trigfjer guard tore his scalp, however, and he could feel the warm blood trickle down. Now his right hand went up to the other's throat, jamming his head back against the logs. The tramp was, of necessity, compelled to drop the rifle to avoid strangulation. He tripped Eddie and they fell. But Eddie, more active, was only briefly underneath. He turned the tramp over with a thump, and struggled to mount astride. A heave of the other's body broke his hold and sent him flying. Eddie had no clear picture of what happened, was happening. He was in a white rage that prevented clear thought. He was lumping against this hard-faced man everything that had happened in recent days, and fighting for revenge for those hap penings. Their scuffling feet pushed the rifle partially under a bunk. Neither dared stoop for it. They fought with their fists. A wave of savage blows on his face and body, but he did not feel their hurt. He was knocked down, and rose to grip the other man and hurl him against the walls. Another blow sent Eddie on bis head and shoulders. The srtanger, with a grimace of triumph, tried to leap upon him. A frantic foot-thrust stopped the motor-tramp. The boot heel caught him fairly, so that blood flew from his smashed nose. It was soon after that the stranger stooped to the fireplace for a blud geon. It was a sizeable stick that had burned in two, leaving one piece more than a foot in length and pyra midal in form. He caught it by the smaller end, as if by a handle. His face was contorted into the snarl of a maddened huskie-dog as he threw it with all his might at Eddie's head. Eddie dodged just in time. The missle grazed his temple, struck the logs and rebounded in front of him so that it was almost under his feet. The throw left the stranger off bal ance. A heavy table stood against the wall at Eddie's left hand. He jerked it in front of him. With both hands on its nearest edge and the full pow er of his 160 pounds behind it, he drove the table ahead of him along the floor. It caught the srtanger across the thighs, jamming him against the wall. With a growl of triumph, Eddie seiz ed him by the hair and dragged him face downward across the table. He Do You Deserve Success? DOES IT SEEK YOU? Success and Happiness don't come to everyone usually just to those who deserve it, who strive to attain it. You anyone can have success, can easily secure the better things of life on an easy plan that is sure to suc ceed. The plan is systematic saving, and it's easily car ried out. Success and Happinss thru savings do not require sacri fices or skimping of present needs. You don't have to give up present comforts. You can have the things you want now and save too. Saving regularly will bring you at once a greater happiness today as well as in the future. If you seek success on this plan, you deserve it. And it will come to you. Let us show you how easy this plan is. Farmers & Stockgrowers National Heppner Baflli Oregon fl wfl iwit iwa iwfi iMjii win wii vuir nl Wk wit Wa Wk iwJ ufl ivsivfl is iws "i m mi held the table like a vise with one hand and his knee. He belabored the tramp with th other fist. But he could not get enough power behind the blows and the man's struggles threatened to free him. The bludgeon of pine was near. He swept it from the floor at the second attempt and swung it like a war club in a wide arc. It struck the man as he straightened below the ear. He fell forward across the table again, out completely. (Continued next week.) Wanted Man with machine to sell Rawleigh Products in Gilliam county and part Morrow county. Profits $100 to $500 per month selling these Good Health Products. No selling exper ience required. We supply Products Sales and Advertising Literature and Service Methods. Lowest Prices, Best Values. W. T. Rawleigh Co., Dept. mi (LM tow FARES 77 BUMMER EXCURSION PARES IN EFFECT MAY 22 TO SEPT. 30 RETURN LIMIT OCTOBER 31, 1927 HOUND TRIP TO DENVER SS7.Z0 OMAHA 7S.SO KANSAS CITY.... 75.60 DES MOINES 81 M ST. LOUIS 88. BO CHICAGO 0.O DETROIT 10.2 CINCINNATI 110.0 CLEVELAND U2.8S TORONTO llS.Of ATLANTA 121.85 ' PITTSBURGH 124.08 WASHINGTON 145.88 PHILADELPHIA 149.22 NEW YORK 151.70 BOSTON 157.78 Low fares also to other points in Middle West, South and East. Liberal ttopovert permit visiting Zion National Park Orand Canyon National Park Yttuowstono National Park Rocky Mountain Nat'l Park For Illustrated Booklets, Reservations and Information, address Agent named below. UNION PACIFIC IUI OVERLAND ROUTS C. DARBEE, Agent Heppner, Ore. OR 1827, Ookland, Calif. 19-22 FOUND A neck chain of beads, or namented with a shield containing In itials IHS and a crucifix. Owner can get same at this office by paying for this notice. RAMS FOR SALE Homneys, Ram bouillets and Hampshires from the famous Coffin ranch, Yakima. See J. J. Kelly, Heppner. 19-21 WANTED Housekeeper for family of four children. Inquire this office. PIANO MUST BE SOLD. Will sacrifice fine piano in storage near here. 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