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The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, February 09, 1934, Image 9

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Friday, February 9,1934.
WATCH THE BASKET
By Henry C. Rowland
Published by Special Arrangement with The
Chicago Tribune-New York News Syndicate,
Inc.
Copyright: 1934: By HENRY C. ROWLAND
(IN TWO PARTS—PART TWO)
With the new idea searing into me
like a welding torch I made up my
mind to do my last stunt. It might
not get us anywhere but it was better
than acting as their bell hop and hav
ing Hunny wonder always If perhaps
I might not be in on the lousy deal.
Back yonder I said that we Lost Bat
talion flyers learned to think quickly.
We learned also to think clearly. While
Casey was pointing his gun at me with
one hand and reaching for a match to
light his cigaret with the other I made
up my mind to have a try at Knife
face. Whether Casey got me or not
didn’t matter, as Knife-face wasn’t so
absorbed in his work as to forget that
I was there.
In a picture where the villain has got
the drop on the speedy hero it doesn’t
look so hard to distract the bad man’s
attention for the split second needed to
kick him in the wrist, or something.
But with a perfectly sober, cool head
ed holdup this couldn’t be done. He
doesn’t look up to see the little birdie.
Of course, with two of them it’s twice
as hard.
But here I wasn’t hoping to get
away with the pair. I wanted only to
get the man that had just made the
dirty crack about not wanting to give
up Hunny for any hundred thousand
bucks. And I wanted Hunny to know
that I hadn’t any part of it. What
might happen then didn’t seem to mat
ter. Stunt flyers are apt to get this
sort of blind one track idea . . and of
ten for nothing better than to make
A yWOjmEjjlw,
out a squall, as if he'd
/" been kicked. Hunny
screamed: — "Get
—— —... ~ .1.7" Mm •• •" । dived at
Ask Mother—
She Knows
Mocker took this medicine bo
fbre and after the babies carnet
It gave her more strength
sod energy when she was nerv
ous and rundown ... kept her
on the job all through the
Change. No wonder she rec
ommends it.
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10 OS P. M 550 Ar. Great Falla, Mont Lv. 7:30 A. BL
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12:30 P. M. 647 Lv. Helena, Mont Lv. 7:30 P. M.
3:30 P. M. 713 Ar. Butte, Mont Lv. 5:00 P. M.
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movie fans sit up and catch their
breath for a brief blink.
Neither of these clear headed busi
ness men would be counting on any
such outbreak of Insanity on the part
of a professional stunt flyer. It’s one
thing to belong to a suicide club and
another to commit suicide. What they
overlooked was that I might be in love
with Hunny and would rather have her
think that I was a dead fool than a
live scoundrel . . or live fool . . .
for that matter. That anybody sane
could get that way wasn’t in their solar
system, or solar plexus, maybe.
Hunny had got tired of moving
round to let Dinkel unklnk himself
and rid his inchworm inside of the
evening’s hamburger. He was feeling
better physically but still uneasy in his
mind. There was plainly something
about all this that looked pretty black
to him. Hunny had sat down on the
flat ground as if it had been as care
fully designed for comfort as an air-
aisMiw
11
line’s chair. Any woman that can do
that, and look It, has nothing to learn
from the cat family for supple grace.
Dinkel was slewed on his starboard
quarter between her knees, with his
neck arched a little, and looking at
Casey, whose gun kept on looking at
me the way any thing or person that
has something it wants to get rid of
looks at the animated target. Casey
was not careless or chummy. He kept
a well spaced deadline between us
without seeming to think about it.
Knife-face was still dismantling the
ship a little. He was not leaving my
end of the get-rich-quick scheme en
tirely to Casey, either. Once or twice
I got the feeling that he was pretend
ing to be careless. Perhaps he thought
that they might be able to swing it
without me just as easily after all. And
that lonely mesa, shaped like a coffin
on top a smaller chest, was a grand
place to get rid of anybody you didn’t
strictly need. We might have been on
the moon.
It was plain that he nearly had fin
ished his takedown job, as he seemed
to be figuring on how long it would
THE HARDIN TRIBUNE-HERALD
take a handy mechanic to put things
back again. Not that It mattered much
as that rotten-ripe old moon was gett
ing what early writers called “gibbous,”
and even in that glittering clear air its
light was stale. Five minutes would put
their snappy little touring plane fifteen
miles away to windward, and they
could circle to go on any course they
chose. In fact, I couldn’t see the sense
In all the trouble he was taking.
“Time to go,” I told myself, and had
the curious tight feeling that comes
always just before trying a new one
that may or may not work. All the
11
Knife-face.
little bells began to ring in me, if you
see what I mean. The wires that kept
my workings taut got fine and tense.
Everything you live and feel with was
getting set, like a line of Olympic rac
ers, or a battalion waiting for the zero
hour whistle to go over the top. It was
a wild, wonderful feeling, like the sense
of a tremendous power that helps you
work itself instead of being worked
entirely by its separate controls.
It seemed as if Casey and Knife-face
could not help but know what was go
ing to break, but they never got so
much as a Hertizan ray of it. Their
wave length couldn’t get anything like
that. The vibrations were too fine
Air pilots’ faces are trained to show
nothing more than mother’s smiles.
When they laugh . . . well, you might
as well laugh, too.
No, they never got so much as the
overtone of it, or harmonic, you might
say. But Dinkel did. And almost at
the same time it came crashing in on
Hunny, as if she’d turned the knob of
the radio too far and picked up a Har
lem joint when she’d just been listen
ing to Dinkel’s hock thumping on the
floor as he got exasperated with a flea.
AU set to start the pair of them
nearly beat me to it. You can explain
it as you want; say what you like about
animal Instinct and feminine intui
tion and mind waves and telepathy
and that truck. I never believed in it
myself, but stuck to my machines of
precision; the pilot guides that tell us
what to do, and when, and how sud
denly. I don’t believe it now, entirely.
Maybe Dinkel got a fresh grip . . .
and Hunny had been holding in until
her nerves just blew up from strain.
But what happened was that aU
three of us unhooked together . . .
like a carefully rehearsed action shot.
If anything, Dinkel got going the frac
tion of a mortal second first, with Hun
ny second, and myself a close third.
The big Uttle dog let out a squeal
as if he’d been kicked. Hunny scream
ed: “Get him . . ." I dived at Knife
face, who was about through. He was
not as completely through as he
thought.
Casey's cannon roared, but I scarcely
heard it. The bullet tore through the
ship. Dink was hanging from Cas
ey’s wrist. Dachshunds were first bred
to do down a badger hole and freeze
onto the savage beasts and lock their
jaws and hang on. Bulldogs have no
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copyright on that stunt. The badger
hunter hauls out the long dog by his
hind legs with the badger at his bow
end, and as the two are built on the
same lines they look like one long
double ended animal with their ears
rigged to go ahead or astern.
Perhaps Casey had always been
afraid of hydrophobia, just as Knife
face might have been afraid of Insane
people. In that case their handicap
was heavy, because Casey could not get
clear of Dinkel and Knife-face could
not get clear of me . . until I had
slipped my arms up under his and got
a double handful of his thick hair and
jerked his head back in a grip shown
me some time before by a jiu-jitsu ex
pert on the lot. There was a sharp
click, and that was all.
Casey had dropped his gun and grab
bed Dinkel and knelt on him while he
tried to choke him with his other hand.
While he was making a bungle of it
Hunny picked up the gun and whaled
him over the head.
Then I dropped Knife-face and took
the gun away from her and showed her
the proper way to use it if she should
ever want to get rid of a kidnaper or
director or critic or any other pest
that might try to spoil her stride to
the winning post.
After a while I stuck the ship to
gether again and looked over, the
ground. Hunny was babbling some
thing about the horror of having had
to take a pair of human lives.
“Forget it,” I said. “They weren't
human. Not even lower animals.”
“No," she agreed, “or they’d have
sensed that you were on the verge of
an attack."
“Like Dinkel,” I said. “He was a
split second ahead of me . . . and
you weren’t that much later. How did
you know?”
Dinkel saw you brimming over. I felt
him shiver and stiffen. I had felt
all along that you were going to take
any chance, however hopeless, rather
than let them fly off with me.”
“How did you know I was going to
bust loose right then?”
“It showed in your eyes. They blaz
ed in the dark.”
“That Dinkel dog reasoned,” I said,
“to grab for his gun wrist instead of at
his other arm, or leg.”
“He grabbed at what was nearest
him. and most dangerous. He knew all
along that they were holdups . . .”
Hunny fetched up, as if something
hadn’t meshed right. She repeated
slowly to herself: “Holdups . . . .
holdups?"
"Call it ‘holdups,’” I suggested. "It
was a good break for us that Casey’s
weak spot happened to be dog bite.
It might have been black cats or . . "
“Bacteria,” she supplied.
“Check. There’s always something.
Two years ago when I was running a
shuttle over the Andes we had a fight
ing macaw that would knock our ocelot
off the fence. But Cocky was scared
to death of bats.”
“So am I,” said Hunny.
All this time I was working like a
mail pilot forced down in the cyclone
season and a bum forecast when he
took off. I kept the dialogue running
to hold Hunny’s mind away from what
the vulture would soon be spotting
when it got light. It didn’t take me
long to hitch things up, and that mesa
was an easy place to leave. This pah
had studied out all the details but Din
kel and Hunny and me.
“Miracle could use some of this stuff,”
I said, "and it wouldn’t cost the ten
hundreds they’ve been saved.”
“My starring career is nearly over,”
Hunny told me, "and so is your stunt
ing, Jack.”
“Got anything else in mind for us?”
I asked. “Because if you have and it’s
what I hope then I wouldn’t do a
barrel roll for a kiss from the Queen
of Sheba. I wouldn’t need to.”
"If you really feel that way about it
you wouldn’t,” she agreed. “It’s
better for me to resign before they dis
cover that as an actress I’m a fraud.”
“How can they find that out?” I
asked.
"Somebody’s bound to see sooner or
later that I never really act.”
“Then what’s your formula?” I ask
ed, and hardened down the last nut.
"Well, you see all I ever do is to
study the part, then imagine I’m the
character they cast me for and do what
she would be bound to do: It can’t help
but be convincing.”
“So it’s like that,” I said. “And to
think that nobody ever guessed."
She gave me a suspicious look. "They
are not so clever. Nobody has ever
guessed in the love scenes I’ve had to
have shot over why I’ve shown so much
more feeling.”
"And why was that?” I asked, trying
to hold the note and making a flop of
it.
"Just another piece of fraud,” said
Hunny. "All I had to do was to tell
myself that the silly fool who had me
in his arms was a crazy Lost Battalion
stunter named . . "
“That was as far as she got. For
the second time in the last hour I
burst into flame . . . but in a different
way. This time Dinkel acted sleepy
instead of savage. He stretched his long
streamlike another yard and yawned
wide enough to fetch out a squeak.
When she got her breath again,
Hunny said: “Besides, I don’t want to
be a list of imitation people, but a
single real one.”
“Let’s say a married real one,” I
suggested, “and I’ll be another.”
CHILDRENS
COLDS
SUPREME COURT
RULES ON CASE
MONTANA SUPREME TRIBUNAL
SUSTAINS VERDICT FOR BROWN
OIL COMPANY
The Montana supreme court re
cently upheld the district court for
Yellowstone county in directing a
verdict for the Brown Oil company of
Billings in a suit involving the sale
and cancellation of filling station
coupon books.
Under the name of the C. & Q. Bus
iness Builders, C. H. Cooke and John R.
Quinlivan entered into a contract with
Harold Sayer of Billings, a lessee of
one of the oil company’s stations, to sell
coupon books to be used in payment of
purchases at the station.
The oil company required Sayer to
sever connections with the C. & Q. firm
and to refuse to redeem the coupons,
holding that the arrangement was a
violation of his contract with the Brown
company and resulted in discrimination
against other filling stations.
The C. & Q. firm subsequently filed
suit.
“And keep on staying alive,” she ap
proved. "That’s the chief reason for
my wanting to retire. I know that if
I kept on playing you would keep on
stunting, Jack.”
I finished my job. A nice little
ground breeze was freshening. The sky
was paling in the east.
Pretty soon I asked: "All set, Honey
sweet . . . ?”
“Forever and ever and ever . . . ”
Hunny answered.
Youth Ordered
to Leave State
A suspended jail sentence of 90 days
was imposed in justice court at Pas
adena, Calif., recently on William Har
rison Olsen, 19, former Pasadena stu
dent, after he pleaded guilty of sending
a threatening letter in connection with
mysterious killing of Dr. Leonard
Siever, “society dentist,” last Decem
ber.
Justice J. Russell Morton suspended
the sentence on condition that the
youth leave the state within 10 days.
J. G. Olsen, the boy’s father, told Jus
tice Morton he planned to take his son
back to Ekalaka, Mont., and put him to
work in a drug store there.
I Prosecutors told the court investiga
tion showed Olsen had no direct know
* ledge of the Siever case.
Hog Processing Tax
Regulation Revised,
Penwell Announces
Revision of the present regulations
with respect to the rate of the proc
essing tax on hogs is announced by
lewis Penwell, collector of internal
revenue for the district of Montana.
The Information supplied Mr. Penwell
by Secretary of Agriculture Wallace
provides as follows:
| In order to effectuate the declared
policy of the agricultural adjustment
act, an adjustment of the rate of the
processing tax on the first domestic
procesing of hogs as of Jan. 1, 1934;
Feb. 1, 1934, and March 1, 1934, is
'necessary.
Accordingly, as of Jan. 1, the rate of
' he processing tax on the first domestic
processing of hogs shall be $1 per hun
dredweight, live weight, as of Feb. 1,
I hat the rate of the processing tax on
the first domestic processing of hogs
shall be $1.50 per hundredweight, live
weight; as of March 1, that the rate of
I he processing tax on the first domestic
processing of hogs shall be $2.25 per
hundredweight, live weight.
This modification of the regulations
educes the original contemplated rate
f tax on the first, domestic processing
f hogs, effective Feb. 1, 1934, from $2
per hundredweight, live weight, to sl.-
, 0 per hundredweight, live weight, and
puts into effect another rate as of
March 1, 1934, of $2.25 per hundred
weight, live weight.
“The Star-Spangled Banner” was
written to the melody of an old Eng
lish drinking song titled “To Anacre
on in Heaven.”
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PAGE NINE
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CANARIES— MaIes, females; fancy
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DUCKS
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BABY CHICKS
A MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE of
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HORSES SOLD
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Sales about one fourth higher than last year.
We also sell all classes of registered draft
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explains every type hand. 50c prepaid.
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A DIME and stamp brings you a very
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BULBS
MARVELOUS GLADIOLI, Brilliant,
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etc. HELENA STAMP WORM. Helena, Mont.
M. N. A., Feb. 5, 1934. <3>

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