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Allegany County news. (Whitesville, Allegany County, N.Y.) 1913-1916, May 27, 1915, Image 6

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A L L E G A N Y C O U N T Y N E W S , W H I T E S V I L L E , N . Y . The Gall of the Cumberlands By Charles Neville Buck W ith Illustrations from Photographs of Scenes in the Play (iCopyrialat. loas. hy W. J. Watt & Co.) SYNOPSIS. ' n Misery creek Sally Miller finds sorg-e Lescott, a landscape painter, un- asclous. Je*se Purvy of the HoHman s has been shot and Samson Is sus- ;ed of the crime. Samson denies it. shootins breaks the truce in the t»«man-South feud. Jim Hollman hunts odnouads the man who shot Pur- ^th W ^ d h oui^ ^ th e man who shot P door. Lescott discov on the m< msonn too i jJneers. Samson thrasl \tnice-bus- ^ ott discovers ahility in Samson. W h ile sketch- Lescott on th e m ountain, Tama- ^ k discovers Samso t a Jeering crowd C nrountalneers. Samson thrash es hin ad denounces him as the \truce-bus who shot Purvy. At W ile Mc- 2 ^— s dance Sam son tells the South going to leave the pi^ountalns. Lescott goes home to New xork. Samson bids Spicer and Sally trewell and follows. In N e w York Sam- lo studies art and learns much of city y * y s . Drennie Lescott persuades W il­ l e d Horton, her dilettante lover, to do a plann s workork Inn thehe world.orld. Promptedrompted byy s w I t w P b tr i Sally teaches herself to write. Norton throws him self Into the business porld and becomes well hated by preda- ' Ts and politicians. At a Bo- 't Samson meets William Par- site, and Horton's ----------- -------- Jamson and Dren- dlning together unchaperoned at the gwam roadhouse. He conspires with lers to make Horton Jealous and ! . ^ flnan cien m '3 to make Horton Jealous CHAPTER XI—Continued. ! Samson did not appear at the Les- house for -WO weeks after that, had begun to think that, if his p;oing there gave embarrassment to fee girl who had been kind to him, Pt were better to remain away. \I don't belong here,” .he told him- !«elf, bitterly. “I reckon everybody Jfeat knows me in New York, except ifee Lescotts, is laughing at me be- fetod my back.” He worked fiercely, and threw into Ills work such fire and energy that it laame out* again converted -into bold-, ^ s s of stroke and an almost savage ^gor of drawing. The instructor iJlGdded his head over the easel, and ^ssed on to the next student without fcaving left the defacing mark of his ^lentless crayon. To the next pupil, it© said^ \Watch the way that man South ifiraws. He’s not clever. He’s elemen- -^6dly sincere, and, if he goes on, the iBrst thing you know he will be a por- |ra!t painter. He won’t merely draw ©yes and lips and noses, but character «nd virtues and vices showing out ferough them.” And Samson met every gaze with etooldering savagery, searching for «^me one who might be laughing at tiim openly, or even covertly, instead of behind his back. The long-suffer­ ing figh tin g lu s t in him craved oppor- fenity to break out and relieve the :^essure on his soul. But no one laughed. -One afternoon late in November, a flint of blizzards swept snarling down the Atlantic se'^^oard from the polar ifioes, with w’et L' rries of snow and Stain. Off on the marshes where the Kenmore club had its lodge, the live ^^!lecoys stretched their clipped wings, jCtnd raised their green necks restively tato the salt wind, and listened. With ^awn, they had heard, faint and far ^way, the first notes of that wild Shorus with which the skies would ring tmtil the southerly migrations ended •—the horizon-distant honking of high fe^ing w'ater fowl. Then it was that Farbish dropped SB with marching prders, and Samson, jifearning to be away where there were 0 p&a skies, packed George Lescott’s l^rrowed paraphernalia, and prepared leave that same night. While he was packing, the telephone JSjmg, and Samson heard Adrienne’s !!Sjoice at the other end of the wire. Where have you been hiding?” she ^manded. “I'll have to send a truant jpfficer after you,” “I’ve been very busy,” said the man, Inland I reckon, after all, you can’t filvillze a wolf. I’m afraid I’ve been ipasting your time. ’ Bossibly, the miserable tone of the -voice told the girl more than the words. ^‘You are having a season with the ^ t a e devils,” she announced. “You’ve ^ea cooped up too much. This wind «aght to bring the ducks, and—” “I’m leaving tonight,\ Samson told Her. “It would have been very nice of 3 fou to have run up to say good-by,” fee reproved. “But I’ll forgive you, If you call me up by long distance. ¥ou will get there early in the mora- Iftg. Tomorrow, I’m going to Philadel- 9hia over night. The next night, I be at the theater. Call me up after the theater, and tell me how you Uke it.” It was the tame old frankness and friendliness of voice, and the same eld note like the music of a reed in- a ^ m e n t Samson felt so comforted end reassured that he laughed through U i e telephone. ‘T to been keeping away from you,” pie volunteered, “because I’ve had a l&pse into savagery, and haven’t been fit to talk to you. When I get back, coming up to explain. .Vnd, in the maantime, I’ll telephone.” On the train Samson was surprised to discover that, after all, he had Mr. ,Wftniam Farblfsh for a traveling com »anioB, That gentleman explained na had aa opportunity to play truant from business for a day or two, and wished to see Samson comfortably ensconced and introduced. The first day Farbish and Samson had the place to themselves, but the next morning would bring others. The next day, while the mountain­ eer was out on the flats, the party of men at the club had been swelled to a total of six, for in pursuance of the carefully arranged plans of Mr. Farbish, Mr. Bradburn had succeeded in inducing Wilfred Horton to run down for a day or two of the sport he loved. When Horton arrived that afternoon, he found his usually even temper ruffled by bits of maliciously broached gossip, until his resentment against Samson South had been fanned into danger heat. He did not know that South also was at the club, and he did not that afternoon go out to the blinds, but so far departed from his usual custom as to permit bimself to sit for several hours in the club grill. And yet, as Is often the case in care­ fully designed affairs, the one element that made most powerfully for the success of Farbish’s scheme was pure accident. The carefully arranged meet­ ing between the two men, the adroitly Incited passions of each, would still have brought no clash, had not Wil­ fred Horton been affected by the flush­ ing effect of alcohol. Since his college days, he had been invariably abstemi­ ous. Tonight marked an exception. He was rather surprised at the cor­ diality of the welcome accorded him, lor, as chance would have it, except for Samson South, whom he had not yet seen, all the other sportsmen were men closely allied to the politi­ cal and financial elements upon which he had been making war. Still, since they seemed willing to forget for the time that there had been a breach, he was equally so. Just now, he was feeling such bitterness for the Ken­ tuckian that the foes of a less per­ sonal sort seemed unimportant. In point of fact, Wilfred Horton had spent a very bad day. The final straw bad broken the back of his usually unruffled temper, when he had found in his room on reaching the Kenmore a copy of a certain New York weekly paper, and had read a page, which chanced to be lying face up (a chance carefully prearranged). It was an item of which Farbish had known. In ad­ vance of publication, but Wilfred would never have seen that sheet,. ‘’Had it'not been so carefully brought to his attention. There were hints of the strange infatuation which a certain young ’jiroman seemed to en­ tertain for a partially civilized stran­ ger who had made his entree to New York via the police court, and who wore his hair long in imitation of a biblical character of the same name. The supper at the Wigwam inn was mentioned, and the character of the place intimated. Horton felt this ob­ jectionable Innuendo was directly traceable to Adrienne’s ill-judged friendship for the mountaineer, and he bitterly blamed the mountaineer. And, while he had been brooding on these matters, a man acting as Far­ bish’s ambassador had dropped into his room, since Farbish himself knew “Don't You See That This Thing Is a Frame-Up?” that Horton would not listen to his confidences. The delegated spokes­ man warned Wilfred that Samson South had spoken pointedly of him, and advised cautious conduct, in a fashion calculated to Inflame. Samson, it was falsely alleged, had accused him of saying derogatory things in his absence, which he would hardly venture to repeat in his pres­ ence. In short, it was put to Horton to announce his opinion openly, or eat the crow of cowardice. That evening, when Samson went to his room, Farbish joined him. ‘Tve been greatly annoyed to find,” he said, seating himself on Samson’s bed, “that Horton arrived today.” *T reckon that’s all right,” said Sam­ son. “He's a member, isn’t he?” Farbish appeared dubious. “I don’t want to appear In the guise of a prophet of trouble,” he said, “but you are my guest here, and I must warn you. Horton thinks of you as a *gun-flghter’ and a dangerous man. He won’t takes chances with you. If there is a clash, it will be serious. He doesn’t often drink, but today he’s doing it, and may be ugly. Avoid an altercation if you can. but if It comes—” He broke off and added strt* lously. “Yon will have to get him, or he will get you. Are you armedf’ The Kentuckian laughed. “I reckon I don’t need to be armed amongst gentlemen.” Farbish drew from his pocket a magazine pistol. “It won’t hurt you to slip that into your clothes,” he Insisted. For an instant, the mountaineer stood looking at his host and with eyes that bored deep, but whatever was in his mind as he made that scrutiny he kept to him self. A t last, he took the magazine pistol, turned it over in his hand, and put it into his pocket. “Mr. Farbish,” he said, “I’ve been in places before now where men were drinking who had made threAs against me. I think you are excited about this thing. If anything starts, he will start i t ” At the dinner table, Samson South and Wilfred Horton were introduced, and acknowledged their introductions with the briefest and most formal nods. During the course of the meal, though seated side by side, each ig­ nored the presence of the other. Sam­ son was, perhaps, no more silent than usual. Always, he was the listener ex­ cept when a question was put to him direct, but the silence which sat upon Wilfred Horton was a departure from his ordinary custom. He had discovered in his college days that liquor, instead of exhilarat­ ing him, was an influence under which he grew morose and sullen, and that discovery had made him almost a total abstainer. Tonight, his glass was con­ stantly filled and emptied, and, as he ate, he gazed ahead, and thought re­ sentfully of the man at his side. When the coffee had been brought, and the cigars lighted, and the serv­ ants had withdrawn, Hortor with the manner of one who had been awaiting an opportunity, turned slightly in his chair, and gazed insolently at the Ken­ tuckian. Samson South still semed entirely unconscious of the other’s existence, though in reality no detail of the brew­ ing storm had escaped him. He was studying the other faces around the table, and what he saw in ihem ap­ peared to occupy him. Wilfred Hor­ ton’s cheeks were burning with a dull flush, and his eyes were narrowing with an unveiled dislike. Suddenly, a silence fell on the party, and, as the men sat pufflng their cigars, Horton turned toward the Kentuckian. For a moment, he glared In silence, then with an Impetuous exclamation of'dis-‘ gust he announced: “See here. South, I want you to know that if I’d understood you were to be here, I wouldn’t have come. It has pleased me to express my opinion of you to a number of people, and now I mean to express it to you In person.\ Samson looked around, and his feat­ ures indicated neither surprise nor in­ terest. He caught Farbish’s eye at the same instant, and, though the plot­ ter said nothing, the glance was subtle and expressive. It seemed to prompt and goad him on, as though the man had said: “You mustn’t stand that Go after him.\ “I reckon”—Samson’s voice was a pleasant drawl—“it doesn’t make any particular difference, Mr. Horton.” “Even if what 1 said didn’t happen to be particularly commendatory?” in­ quired Horton, his eyes narrowing. “So long,” replied the Kentuckian, “as what you said was your own opin­ ion, I don’t reckon it would interest m e much.” “In point of fact\—Horton was gaz­ ing with steady hostility into Sam­ son’s eyes—“1 prefer to tell you. I have rather generally expressed the belief that you are a damned savage, unfit for decent society.” Samson’s face grew rigid and a trifle pale. His mouth set itself in a straight line, but, as Wilfred Horton came to his feet with the last words, the moun­ taineer remained seated. “And,” went on the New Yorker, flushing with suddenly augmenting passion, “what I said I still believe to be true and repeat in your presence. At another time and place, I shall be even more explicit. I shall ask you to explain—certain things.” “Mr. Horton,” suggested Samson in an ominously quiet eoice, “I reckon you’re a little drunk. If I were you, I’d sit down.” Wilfred’s face went from red to white, a^d his shoulders stiffened. He leaned forward, and for the instant no one moved. The tick of the clock was plainly audible. “South,” he said, his breath coming in labored excitement, “defend your­ self!” Samson still sat motionless. “Against what?” he Inquired. “Against that!” Horton struck the mountain man across the face with his open hand. Instantly, there was a commotion of scraping chairs and shuffling feet, mingled with a chorus of inarticulate protest. Samson had risen, and, for a second, his face had become a thing of unspeakable pas­ sion. His hand instinctively swept toward his pocket—and stopped half­ way. He stood by his overturned Chair, gazing into the eyes of his as­ sailant, with an effort at self-mastery which gave his chest and arms the appearance of a man writhing and stiffening under electrocution. Then, he forced both hands to his back and gripped them there. For a moment, the tableau was held, then the man from the mountains began speaking, slowly and in a tone of dead-level monotony. Each syllable was portent­ ously distinct and clear clipped. “Maybe you know why I don’t kill you. . . . Maybe you don't. . . . I don’t give a damn whether you do or not. . . . That’s the first blow I’ve ever passed. . . . I ain't going to hit back. . . . You need a friend pretly bad just now. . . . For certain reasons, I’m going to De that friend. Don’t you see that this thing is a damned frame-up? . . , Don’t you see that I was brought here to murder you?” He turned suddenly to Farbish. “Why did you insist on my putting that In my pocket”—Samson took out the pistol, and threw it down on the table-cloth in front of Wilfred, where It struck and shivered a half-filled wine-glass—“and why did you warn me that this man meant to kill me? I was meant to be your catspaw to put Wilfred Horton out of your way. I may be a barbarian and a savage, but I can smell a rat—If it’s dead enough.” For an'instant there was absolute and hushed calm. Wilfred Horton picked up the discarded weapon and looked at it in bewildered stupefac­ tion, then slowly his face flamed with distressing mortification. “Any time you want to fight me”— Samson had turned again to face him, and was still talking in his deadly quiet voice—“except tonight, you can find me. I’ve never been hit before without hitting back. That blow has got to be paid for—but the man that’s really responsible has got to pay first. Ready Either to Fight or Shake Hands.\ When I fight you. I’ll fight for myself, not for a bunch of damned murderers. . . . J u s t now , I've got oth e r b u s in e s s . That man framed this up!” He pointed a lean finger across the table into the startled countenance of Mr. Farbish. “He knew! He has been working on this job for a month. I’m going to attend to his case now.” As Samson started toward Farbish, the conspirator rose, and, with an ex­ cellent counterfeit of insulted virtue, pushed back his chair. “By God,” he indignantly exclaimed, “you m u s tn ’t try to em b r o il m e in your quarrels. You must apologize. Y o u are talking wildly. South.” “Am I?” questioned the Kentuckian, quietly; “I'm going to act wildly in a minute.” He halted a short distance from Far­ bish, and drew from his pocket a crumpled scrap of the offending maga­ zine page: the item that had offended Horton. “I may not have good manners. Mister Faroish, but where I come from we know how to handle varm in t s .” He dropped his voice and added for the. plotter’s ear only: “Here’s a little matter on the side that concerns only us. It wouldn’t interest these other gentlemen.” He opened his hand, and added; “H e r e , eat that!” Farbish with a frightened glance at the set face of the man who was ad­ vancing upon him, leaped back, and drew from his pocket a pistol—it was an exact counterpart of the one with which ho had supplied Samson. With a panther like swiftness, the Kentuckian leaped forward, and struck up the weapon, which spat one in­ effective bullet intc the rafters. There was a momentary scuffle of swaying bodies and a crash under which the table groaned amid the shattering of glass and china. Then, slowly, ‘the oonspirator’s body bent back at the waist, until its shoulders were stretched on the disarranged cloth, and the white face, with purple veins swelling on the forehead, stared up between two brown hands that gripped itb throat. “Swallow that!” ordered the moun­ taineer. For just an instant, the company stood dumfounded, then a strained, unnatural voice broke the silence. “Stop him, he’s going to kill the man!” The odds were four to two, and with a sudden rally to the support of their chief plotter, the other conspira­ tors rushed the figure that stood throt- Ulng his victim. But Samson South was in his element. The dammed-up wrath that had been smoldering dui^ Ing these la s t days was having a tem­ p e s tu o u s ou t let. He had found men who, in a gentlemen’s club to which he had come as a guest, sought to use him as a catspaw and murderer. As they assaulted him, en masse, he seized a chair, and swung it fiaii- like about his head. For a few mo­ ments, there was a crashing of glass and china, and a clatter of furniture and a chaos of struggle. Samson South stood for a moment panting in a scene of wreckage and disorder. The table was littered with shivered glasses and decanters and chinaware. The furniture was scat­ tered and overturned, Farbish was weakly leaning to one side In the seat to w h ich he had made h is w a y . The men who had gone down under the h e a v y blows of the chair la y q u ietly where they had fallen. Wilfred Horton stood waiting. The whole affair had transpired with such celerity and speed that he had .hardly understood it, and had taken no part. But, as he met the gaze of the dis­ ordered figure across the wreckage of a dinner-^hle, he realized that now. with the preliminaries settled he wht had struck Samson in the face must give satisfaction for the blow. Horton was sober, as cold sober as though he had jumped into ice-water, and though he was not in the least afraid, he was mortified, and, had apology at such a time been possible, would have made It. He knew that he had misjudged his man; he saw the outlines of the plot as plainly as Samson had seen them, though more tardily. Samson’s toe touched the pistol w h ich had dropped from F a r h ish ’s hand and he con t e m p t u o u s ly kicked it to one side. He came back to his place. “Now, Mr. Horton,” he said to the man who stood looking about with a dazed expression, “if you’re still of the same mind, I can accomodate you. You lied when you said I was a sav­ age—though just now it sort of looks like I was, and”—he paused, then added—“and I'm ready either to fight or shake hands. Either way suits me.” For the moment, Horton did not speak, and Samson .slowly went on: “But, whether we fight or not, you’ve got to shake hands with me when we’re finished. You and me ain't going to start no feud. This is the first time I've ever refused to let a man be my enemy if he wanted to. I’ve got my reasons. I’m going to make you shake hands with me whether you like it or not, but if you want to fight first It’s satisfactory. You said awhile ago you would be glad to be more explicit with me when we were alone— He paused and looked about the room. “Shall I throw these damned murderers out of here, or will you go into another room and talk?” \Leave them where they are,” said Horton, quietly, “We’ll go into the reading-room. Have you killed any of them?” “I don’t know,” said the other, curt^ ly, “and I don’t care.” When they were alone, Samsoi^ went on: “I know what you want to ask me about, and I don’t mean to answer you. You want to question me about Miss Lescott. Whatever she and I have done doesn’t concern you. I will saj this much—if I’ve been ignorant ol New York ways and my ignorance has embarrassed her, I’m sorry. “I supposed you know that she’s tod damned good for you—^just like she’s too good for me. But she thinks more of you than she does of me—and she’s, yours. As for me, I have nothing to apologize to you for. Maybe, I ha?e something to ask her pardon about, but she hasn’t asked it. (TO BE CONTINUED.) SLEEP WAS NOT FOR HER iOL GROUG in This By-Product of the Farm Win Make Many Western Canada Farmers Rich. Alberta wool growers are looking for 25 cent wool this year. That is the assertion made by a prominent sheep­ man of the Grassy Lake district. “It is quite within the pale of possibility that we will receive that figure from our wool this summer,” said he, “and I would not be surprised to see some get more than that. “The war has caused a great demand to be made on the woolen mills, and they have got to have the raw mate­ rial.” The present season has been most propitious for the growing of wool, and* the growers expect to reap a big har­ vest of a splendid quality. The winter has been very even, and the sheep are doing well on the ranges. No special breed of sheep is kept on Western Canada farms, and all seem to do well. The advice of those interested In the welfare of the farm­ ers of Western Canada, advise all who can at all do so to enter upon the raising of sheep. They have proved most profitable to those who go into that industry on a scale commensu­ rate with their means, and their farm area. The climate is perfectly adapted to the raising of sheep, they are easily kept, and as pointed out, there is good money to be made out of them.—^Ad­ vertisement. The trouble with many a self-made man is that he is not quite finished. Important to Mothers Examine carefully every bottle cd CASTORIA, a safe and sure remedy for infants and children, and see that it signature of In Use For Over SO Years. Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoiiai Some of these blessings in disguise never seem to take the mask off. DONT VISIT THE OALIPORNIA JBaC* PO S ITIO NS Without a supply'of Allen’s Foot- Ease, the an Iseptic powder to be shaken into the Shoes, or dissolved in the Joot-bath. The Standard Little One Got What Consolation She Could Out of Foregoing Prom­ ised Reward. The parentally imposed afternoon nap has long been childhood’s bane. Harry S. Smith, secretary of the park board was telling the other day of difficulties of afternoon napping expe­ rienced by bis offspring. A youthful daughter is especially given to insomnia at the time in the j afternoon when it is insisted that sha shall nap. It is no fault of hers Sha strives strenuously to woo Morpheus, but to no avail. The sleep god is co quettish and he comes only when he can steal upon his victims. The Other afternoon the tot w a s do­ ing her best to sleep. Dutifully sh« closed her eyes, breathed rhythmically and counted sheep jumping over th« fence, as instructed. Sleep would not come. But it would never do to dis­ appoint a parent. So when the ques­ tion came, “Are you sleeping, daugh­ ter?” she murmured slumberously. “Uh-huh.” But her message was not con v in o ing. So she was offered a dime as % rew’ard for sleeping. Time and agalg she made the effort, but always it wai fruitless. Then she began to squirm . Finally she sat up in her bed. Her manner was eloquent of conviction o< the futility of further effort, after res* ign a tlon o f claim upon the rew a r d . \Oh I don’t care; I don’t want the dime,” she said. “My bank is a penny bank, anyhow.”—Louisville Times. . On» lady writes; \J enjoyed every minute of my stay at the Expositions, thanks to Allen's Foot-Ease in my shoes.\ Get H TODAY Adw A cucumber is an uncivilized bananm. Hundred-Foot Standard. The Western Society of Bngineew has had prepared a 100-foot length standard, which it has presented tc the city of Chicago. This standard la a steel rod 102 feet long, two inches wide and half an inch in thickneas, which rests on rollers secured to sub* stantial brackets fixed to the wall. ThS graduations, which were established by Prof. L. A. Fischer of the United States bureau of standards, Washing­ ton, were at zero, one foot, one yard, one meter, ten feet, 25 feet, 50 feet, 6€ feet, 20 meters, 30 meters and 100 feet, and at each of these points a disk of an alloy of 90 per cent platinum and ten per cent iridium 5.16 inch in diameter was inserted in the rod flush with its surface, the exact diviston point being marked on the disk. The work of graduation proved remarkably accurate, as is shown by the correctiOB table furnished for use in connectioa with comparisons of measures. Chicken Thief Wrote Verse. After cleaning out a chicken coop ii Birmingham, Ala., the chicken thiol left the following note: “Lord, have m e r c y on my soul, how m a n y chicken* have I stole, last night and the nighJ before, coming back tonight and 25 more; remember coming back to night.” Whaie a Victim of War. An enormous whale drifted ashas* n ^ r Margate, EJngland, the other dtj It had been killed by a min© ts North sea. 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