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THURSDAY, JAN. 12, 1939 CATTLE KINGDOM By ALAN LEMAY Alan LeMay WNU Service THE STORY CHAPTER I Billy Wheeler, wealthy young cattleman, arrives at the 94 ranch, lummoned by his friend Horse Dunn, its elderly and quick-tempered owner, because of a mysterious muraer. Billy is in love with Dunn’s niece Marian, whom he has not seen for two years. She had rejected his suit and is still aloof. Dunn’s ranch is sur rounded by enemies, including Link Bender, Pinto Halliday and Sam Caldwell, whom he had defeated in his efforts to build a cattle kingdom. Dunn directs his cow hands. Vai Douglas, Tulare Callahan and others to search for the killer’s horse. He explains to Billy that the morning before he had come upon bloodstained ground at Short Creek and found the trail of a shod and un shod horse. The shod horse's rider had been killed. The body had disappeared and no one was reported missing. Link Bender had arrived at the scene and read the signs the way he had. Dunn reveals that because of a financial crisis the ranch may be in jeopardy his enemies may make trouble since Sheriff Walt Amos is friendly with them. He says he has asked Old Man Cof fee, the country's best trailer, to join them. CHAPTER II—Dunn and Billy meet Amos, Link Bender, his son "the Kid" and Cay use Cayentano, an Indian trailer, at Short Creek. Bender has found the slain man’s horse, but the saddle is missing. Almost supernaturally, cattle attracted to the scene by the blood-stained ground, stamp out all the traces. Dunn is angered when Amos tells him not to leave the county. Following an argument. Bender draws his gun, but Dunn wounds him in the arm. Back at the ranch Old Man Coffee arrives, with a pack of hounds. Bill notices Marian is cold to Dunn. Coffee goes in search of the dead man's saddle. Dunn tells Bill that Marian is incensed at him for trying to settle dis putes by bloodshed. He reveals that the ranch is really hers since she inherited it from his brother also that he recently sold his own ranch in Arizona and that his part ner, Bob Flagg, is enroute with the money. CHAPTER III—Billy accompanies Marian on a ride to Short Creek. ‘\Kid" Bender, dow a deputy, rides up. They have an argument, and by a trick Bender tries to shoot him. Billy saves himself by plunging against Bender a pony and "the Kid is Injured. CHAPTER IV—Coffoe returns to the ranch with the saddle and reveals that Cayuse Cayetano is on the trail for Sheriff Amos. The saddle belonged to Lon Magoon, a small-time cattle thief who, according to range law, deserved such a fate. Billy learns he is to be a-rested for assaulting "Kid” Bender. Strangely, Marian says she cannot testify for him. CHAPTER V—On the sheriff's orders. Billy and the ranchmen drive into Inspira tion. On the way, Coffee tells him that the murder victim was not shot by the man riding with him, but by a third person. CHAPTER VI—Billy Is disturbed when Marian seems to be interested in Vai Doug las. At a hearing before Justice Shafer, the sheriff, aided by Dunn's enemies, tries to incriminate Billy for attacking "Kid" Bend er. When things look dark, Marian suddenly demands to be heard and refutes their false testimony. Suddenly word is received that Cayuse Cayetano has been mysteriously slain. CHAPTER VII—Justice Shafer dismisses the charges against Billy. Back at the ranch, Dunn and Marian again have words. Dunn is disturbed when Coffee tells him that Lon Magoon was not the murder victim, that another man was killed in his saddle. CHAPTER VIII—Goaded by Dunn, Coffee declares that perhaps someone at the ranch knows more about the killings than he and says he is through with the case. As he leaves he tells Billy he is going to find the murdered man and asks him to ride out and meet him the next morning. That night a mysterious shot from the bush almost hits Marian. When Dunn tells Billy Magoon was a short man, he measures the stirrups on the saddle and finds they were lengthened for a tall man. It occurs to him that Bob Flagg may be the victim. CHAPTER IX—Dunn deprecates the sug gestion that Flagg may be the murdered man. He says if it were not for Marian he would give up the ranch and go to Argen tina. Billy offers to throw in money to save it. Dunn refuses and accuses Billy of trying to buy Marian. He hotly denies it. Next morning, Wheeler is amazed to find Marian waiting for him. She says she over heard the conversation the night before and insists on accompanying him to Coffee. CHAPTER X—After hours of tracking. Coffee goes on ahead. He returns saying the slain man was Bob Flagg. Back at the ranch, Wheeler tells Dunn that Flagg was slain by a shotgun. Dunn says some mys terious person has been slinking aiound the ranch. Sheriff Amos arrives, preoarmg to take him into custody, when Callahan rides up saying he has jujt seen Magoon in the distance. Amos agrees to let Dunn have 30 hours to settle his affairs. CHAPTER XI—Dunn, Billy and Callahan set out in opposite directions to catch Ma goon. Returning from a vain search at sundown, Billy is told by Marian she had sighted Magoon. They find the trail. Billy rides toward an abandoned shack, figuring It may be Magoon’s hideout. When Mar ian insists on going, he suddenly kisses her. certain she will now turn back. Upbraiding him angrily, she rides with him. Soon she sees a rider in the rocks above and a mo ment later her horse is shot down. CHAPTER XII—Searching the canyon, Billy and Marian hear a pony snort and find the ruined shanty. Here Billy discov ers the body of Lon Magoon, killed by a shotgun shell. Returning to the ranch they tell Old Man Coffee, who is not surprised. He reveals he has been on the trail of Bob Flagg, had found he had come in a back way to the ranch, met Magoon, got a cheap horse from him and they had ridden away together. Flagg had bummed his way from Arizona. CHAPTER XIII—Later that night, Billy is joined by Marian. She tells him she is going to stay with the ranch whatever hap pens. Events have brought them closer to gether and he now knows there is no barrier between them. She confesses her love for him. His mind now at rest, Billy suddenly feels he has the answer to the mystery, and talks again with Coffee. Soon he tells Mar ian they must go to Inspiration. (Now go on with the story) CHAPTER XIV The early sun was upon the broad main street of Inspiration as Billy Wheeler drove Horse Dunn’s tour ing car into the little cow town. Old Man Coffee was in the back seat, this time without any of his dogs. Marian, who had been dozing against Billy’s shoulder, sat up and looked at the vacant street with a detached curiosity. It seemed strange to see the street so empty and silent, where last they had seen it full of knotted groups of men. No stealthy movement in doorways this time, no eyes covertly watching them from under ten-gallon hats— nothing but clean horizontal sunlight on quiet dust, as if nothing lived in this place at all. Marian said, “You still don’t want to tell me what you’re going to do?” “It isn’t that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that it’s—it’s got to come to you in another way.” “This is a dramatic thing—rather a terrible thing,” Marian said, “this coming to the end of a killer’s trail.” “Don’t look at it that way. I want you to think of this thing with all the impartiality yoq can. You know’now-Char our western code is a different code. Not the six-gun code of the old days, nor the wild kind of thing some people have tried to make out it is, such as never ex isted here or any place else. But just a kind of a way of going about things that is bred into dry country men—the way of each man making his own right and wrong, each man looking only to himself for approval in the end. Maybe—you’re only go ing to learn the story of a kind of— a kind of private execution maybe by a man who believed with all his heart that he was in the right.” She looked at him wonderingly for a minute she had never heard him talk in that way before. “Billy, Billy, don’t you trust me to face out anything, even yet? Don’t you think I have any courage at all?” I trust your courage more than I’ve ever trusted anything in my life. Or you wouldn’t be here now.” Wheeler drove through the town and turned up a side street to the house where Sheriff Walt Amos lived. Leaving Marian and Old Man Coffee in the car he walked around the little house to the back door there was a smell of breakfast cook ing here, and Walt Amos himself was souzling water over his face and hair at a wash bench beside a pump. The young sheriff straight ened up and stared at Wheeler for a long moment through dripping wa ter. “Hardly expected to see you here.” “I’ve come to make a deal with you,” Wheeler said. “Don’t hardly seem there’s any deal to be made between you and me. Horse Dunn isn’t going out on bail. Get it out of your head.” Amos began to dry his face and hair. “This is something else,” Wheel er said. “You’ve wanted me out of this picture. You’ve wanted me out of it from the start. You know why, and there’s no need for us to go into why.” “I got enough troubles on this range,” Amos said, “without outside capital pitching in to make things worse for the common run of cow men.” “In short, you and your gang has been afraid I’d help Dunn save the 94. You tried to railroad me, here in Judge Shafer’s court—but you didn’t get away with it. Maybe you’ve got other things in mind to try, to get me out of the way of your plans. I don’t know anything about that.” “People from outside, that figure to throw in against the best inter ests of this range—” Amos began. “All right. Now you’ve got a chance to get rid of me. You give me what I want and I’ll promise you I’ll be out of this killing case within 24 hours.” “You haven’t got any official standing in this case to begin with,” Amos pointed out. “You’d like to see me drag my freight, just the same! And here’s how you can get it done.” “Well?” “Old Man Coffee and Horse Dunn’s niece are here with me. Give us an hour to talk to Horse Dunn alone. That’s the proposition and all of the proposition.” “And if I do that you’ll pull out of here?” “Within 24 hours. I’ll stay out until the killing case against Horse Dunn is cleared up, one way or another. After that maybe I’ll come back to the 94 and maybe I’ll help it with its finance I don’t say one way or the other. But if you want me out of it for the time being, here’s your chance.” “There’s a hook in this some place,” Amos said. “But I’ll take a chance. Horse Dunn’s in the jail, where he belongs. I’ll take you there and I’ll give you an hour.” The Inspiration jail was tiny, but it was perhaps the most modern thing in the town. It sat by itself on a rise of ground 200 yards be hind Walt Amos’ house, which was the nearest dwelling. In structure it was a 20-foot square cube of concrete, with tiny air holes near the roof, and an iron door. Within was an inner cage of steel bars, separated from the outer shell, all the way around, by a corridor four feet wide. The place had no great capacity, but it would have been a double job for a good cracksman to make his way out. Old Man Coffee was reluctant to visit Horse Dunn here. “Don’t hard ly seem fitting.” “There's a special reason I want you to come, for a minute or two.” “Have it your own way.” Sheriff Walt Amos swung wide the outer door. “I’m putting you on your honor not to try any funny business,” he said. “But in case of doubt—just remember how easy it would be to cut loose on you from the house!” “You talk like a child,” said Cof fee. It seemed strange, Billy Wheeler thought, that the old king of cattle, the man who could not only dream a cow kingdom but make it live, was to be found standing here in a two by-four jail. Yet, within the black shadows of concrete and steel Horse Dunn towered bigger than ever, straighter than ever he seemed, not an old man at the end of his rope, but a young giant, easy in his strength. The great sense of latent power that radiated from Horse Dunn made it seem that he only waited here within these cramped walls because he wilfully used his own great body as a pawn, laid in hazard while he awaited his ad vantage. But there were tears in Marian’s eyes. Horse Dunn grinned upward and about him at the steel and concrete. The walls could not shame him—it was he who shamed ‘he walls. “A thousand miles of re ,e have to be held by money and cuws and men— not by a little tin contrivance palmed off on the county by some hardware salesman. You think they can hold me here an hour, once I decide to move out?” No one answered him. There where the daylight could hardly en ter, the silence had a way of de scending sharply, like the closing of iron doors. After a little of that culet no .one .could ferret that a man had been lounC aeaa tfe© Sleep, and another at Ace Springs, and still another at the head of a gorge without a name. Wheeler knew that Old Man Cof fee’s eyes were watching him, wait ing for him to speak. He drew a deep breath and broke the silence. “Horse,” he said, “the whole works has been—kind of stood on its head, since I saw you last.” Horse Dunn's voice rumbled. “Well, that’s good!” Wheeler’s voice was very low he found that he could hardly speak. “No, Horse it isn’t good. This is maybe the worst thing that any of us have come to, ever, in all our long trails.” Held in that sharp, hard silence that could clamp down so suddenly here they could feel the chill of the walls. Wheeler was seeking a way to go on. Marian was holding her uncle’s hand against her cheek, and now Horse drew his hand away. “Billy,” he said and hesitated. Then, “Speak out, man!” he said at last. “Two-three different things have happened,” Wheeler said. “Marian and I found Lon Magoon dead, a lit- 11 IV .J J? Lv'l V i fl: ■■x I Then “Speak Out, Man!” He Said. tie way back in the hills. Coffee, here, he went to Pahranagat—” “How’d Magoon die?” Horse Dunn asked. Wheeler would not be turned aside. “I guess that don’t so much matter, Horse, in view of a couple of other things. For one thing, Mar ian had her horse shot out from under her, in plain light, back in the hills. I’ve been thinking a whole lot, Horse,” he went on, “about how anybody would ever come to take a shot at her. Now—I think I know.” “What are you coming to, boy?” Horse Dunn said. “Horse,” said Billy Wheeler— “Horse—I know who killed Marian’s pony last night and I know why.” He saw Horse Dunn’s big shaggy head sway and tip a little to one side as the old man sought to peer more closely into Wheeler’s eyes. “If you know that—” he began. Wheeler’s voice was flat and re laxed with utter certainty. “You know I do, Horse.” Billy Wheeler could hear his own blood beating in his ears, like a far off Indian drum and this time the silence was a terrible silence, un endurable to those gathered there. “Coffee,” Horse Dunn said in an unnatural voice, “I’ll talk to this boy alone.” Perhaps some faint persistent hope that he was wrong had lasted somewhere in Billy Wheeler’s mind. But when Horse Dunn told Old Man Coffee to go out, Wheeler knew that he had not been wrong, but that they were at the end. Old Man Coffee moved quickly, with the smooth, sliding stride of one of his own lion hounds. He was glad to be out of there. For a moment the young sun splashed through the open door with the bril liance of a powder flare-up then the half-dark closed again as Coffee let the door swing shut behind him. They heard the crunch of his heels in the dirt as he walked off down the side of the hill. “You go too, Marian,” Horse Dunn said softly. “Billy and I want “You want her to stay here, Horse, I think.” “Stay here?” The old man’s voice was blurred by a strange and unac customed uncertainty. “You want her to stay here?” “It’s you that needs her here,” Wheeler told him. Then after a mo ment he said, almost inaudibly— “Tell her, Horse.” An odd back light from one of the high ventilators outlined Dunn’s big shaggy head and the sweep of a great shoulder, but his eyes they could not see. As he spoke it seemed that it was not the big old fighter who stood there, but an old man as vaguely bewildered as a child. “Tell her?” he said dimly. “You want me to tell her—” Once more the silence descended, brutal, complete it held on end lessly, as if no one of them was ever going to be able to break it again. And still Horse Dunn did not speak nor move, but stood like a frozen man, a great shadowy figure just beyond the bars. Billy Wheeler tried to say something, anything, to break that terrible taut stillness but he could not. Suddenly Marian Dunn stumbled forward, against the bars. She reached through, drew Horse Dunn’s wrists through the barrier, and hid her face in his two great hands. Her voice came to them choked and smothered. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know—” Horse Dunn’s words shuddered as he cried out—“What—what didn’t you know?” “That you—could love me—so much ...” Wheeler saw the old fighter sway but in a moment he was steady again. He spoke across Marian’s bent head, and his voice had a hard edge, “You don’t know wfeat you’re THE BLUFFTON NEWS, BLUFFTON. OHIO talking about. Old ’Man 'Coffee Thas been loading you, with— Look here: is he in on this?” “I’m virtually certain he knows, though he figured it out different than I did.” “Figured out what? Spit it out, man!” “Horse,” said Wheeler with more sadness in his voice than he had ever known in the world before, “I can name you every step of—” Horse Dunn’s voice blazed up, breaking restraint. “In God’s name, how did you find out?” “From something Marian said. After the first shot at her, she said, ‘I’m glad it happened. I can’t tell you why.’ I know now what she meant by that. Those shots proved to her that no one who loved her was mixed up in the Short Crick works. And today it suddenly came to me that just to fix that idea in her mind might have been reason enough for dropping those shots near her. Then I remembered the night when you taped up your ankle where it was skinned, and spoke of straightening your spur. Of course, a spur doesn’t skin a man’s ankle bone. Some boot weapon would have to do that and a derringer would have fitted in—a derringer carrying a shotgun shell. The shot in the saddle fooled Coffee, for a while it looked to him like it came from farther away than the horses had stood apart, and made him think there was a third man. But I just happened to think that the shot could have come from a short, weak gun with the same effect. Well—” Wheeler finished—“Coffee has been to Pahranagat he found out that Flagg came through there like a bum.” “Dear God,” Horse Dunn whis pered. “It’s—the end of the rope.” He pulled his hands away, and be gan to pace the two strides that the cell permitted—back and forth, back and forth. “Marian,” Wheeler begged, “tell him you see—” Marian raised her face, surpris ingly in command of herself again. Her voice was steady. “I do see it! I see it all!” Dunn’s pacing stopped he raised big shaking hands, pleading hands. “And yet you—you ain’t—you don’t think—” Marian cried out to him—and there was pain in her voice, but there was glory in it, too—“I think nobody ever loved anybody so much as you have proved you love me!” “I I can’t hardly believe”— Horse Dunn sagged down onto the bare steel cot within his cell. “Mar ian, if you’re telling me that you— you know—and yet you’re backing me, still—” The girl was pressed against the bars that kept her from him. “I’m telling you that I believe in you with all my heart!” Horse Dunn stood up slowly, like a man in a dream. The light within the concrete walls had strengthened with the rising of the sun—or perhaps it was only that their eyes had become more ac customed to the half-dark but now they could see that into Horse Dunn’s face had come a war-like glory. Once more he looked like a ybung man. The girl reached through the bars and upward to grasp his great shaggy head be tween her hands. He said, “How much have you told her, boy?” “She knows only what she’s guessed, I think. The rest of the story has to come from you.” The boss of the 94 appeared to consider for what seemed a long time. “I—I don’t know as I can make out to do that. Life hasn’t gone easy, or smooth, with me. Other times, long ago, I’ve faced down other men, more men than these. But I swear I never raised gun to any man, without he got his break! I stood with empty hands, always, until their guns showed from the leather” __ .. 3E V V V “She has to know it all,” Billy insisted “from the very beginning.” “I can’t hardly expect her to un derstand how it come up. Those shots I threw so close to her—that’s the crazy part, that a man can’t hardly explain. I couldn’t ever have done it, if I didn’t know for certain that I could put a slug into a two bit piece at a hundred yards—ten out of ten, easy as you’d put your finger on a nail. It seems a wild and crazy thing, even to me. But— I tell you, never a man lived that could throw the fear into me that this kid has always been able to— just on the scare that she’d quit me. And I thought if there was one thing she’d be sure of on earth, it was that I’d give my life to save the least hair of her head from harm. And I took that way so that she’d always be dead certain, what ever might happen or be proved later, that it couldn’t be true that it was me killed Flagg.” “Oh, Horse, Horse,” Marian said, “how did it ever happen?” “The shoot-out with Flagg, you mean?” He told them now, step by step the story of an old gun-fighter, and old ideals of justice and right. It came out haltingly, as Horse Dunn paced. But even told slowly, and with an effort greater than they could ever know, that story was brief. Until he met Bob Flagg on the Red Sleep trail, Dunn had had no advance word of his partner’s ar rival. At that time he had already been waiting for Flagg’s arrival for weeks—the very existence of the 94 depended upon him and Dunn was shocked and astonished to meet a frayed-out man on a worthless horse and a saddle borrowed from a rus tler—and recognize this man as his Arizona partner. (To be Continued) Pleasant Hill Miss Rhea Scoles and Edward Alt hauser called Sunday evening on Mr. and Mrs. George Huber and son. Mr. and Mrs. I. M. Jennings and Mr. and Mrs. Clair Huber were Sun day evening dinner guests of Mr. and Mrs. Willard Jennings and family. Mrs. Cora Huber spent Thursday night with Mr. and Mrs. Paul Wine gardner and son of Harrod. The January clearance sale is on at The Lape Co. Past week callers of Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Lugibihl and family were: Mrs. Harley Amstutz, of Hollywood, Cal. Mrs. Hiram Basinger and children, of Pandora Mr. and Mrs. L. A. Am stutz and daughter and Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Younkman and daughters. Miss Dorothy Lugibihl spent Thursday night with Miss Marilyn Stratton. Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Stratton and family called at the Russell Huber home Friday evening. Mr. and Mrs. Russell Huber and sons were guests in the John Huber home in Lima, Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. George Huber and son called Sunday afternoon on Mr. and Mrs. Paul Winegardner and son of Harrod. Mrs. Cloyce Hauenstein and Miss Betty Hauenstein called on the Obenour sisters Sunday afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Phillips were Sunday dinner guests of Mr. and Mrs. F. G. Younkman and family. Mr. and Mrs. C. W. Klingler and family called Sunday afternoon on Mr. and Mrs. Harry Huber and family. The January clearance sale is on at The Lape Co. Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hess and Doni Forgot Your ... (JANUARY family were Sunday dinner guests of Mrs. Lily Fett and Nellie Huber. Mrs. Howard Smith and Miss Nellie Huber called Thursday after noon on Mrs. Martha Huber of Co lumbus Grove. Monday evening callers of Mr. and Mrs. Lyman Barnes and Arlene Cal andar were: Mr. and Mrs. Harvey Welty and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Early and son Glen, Carl Davis, Mr. and Mrs. Clint Moorehead and daughter and Mr. and Mrs. Clate Scoles and daughter. Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Traucht call ed Thursday evening on Mr. and Mrs. Lyman Barnes. Armorsville Mr. and Mrs. O. P. Hartman took Thursday dinner at the Bert Teeth worth home near Hoytville and call ed on Mrs. Mary Hartman and family in the afternoon. The January clearance sale is on at The Lape Co. Mr. and Mrs. Chas. Montgomery and daughter Sue and Wayne Hauen stein called Thursday evening at the Levi Hauenstein home. Sunday visitors at the Ray Guider home were Mr. and Mrs. Carl Mc Cafferty and son Donald, Mr. and Mrs. Guy Fleming and family, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Guider and daugh ter. Mr. and Mrs. Henry Grismore and family spent Sunday at the O. P. Hartman home. Sunday callers of Mrs. Eva Mont gomery were Mr. and Mrs. Earl Hilty and daughters, Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn Spellman and daughter. Mrs. Lenore Montgomery and daughter Sue called Sunday after noon on Mrs. Catharine Welsh and Mr. and Mrs. A. C. Mertz of Ada. Mr. and Mrs. Cecil Hartman and son called Monday afternoon at the O. P. Hartman home. Mr. and Mrs. H. O. Hilty and daughter Rosann, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ewing called Sunday after noon on Mr. and Mrs. James Calahan of Findlay. Those that took Saturday dinner with Mrs. Eva Montgomery were Mrs. Schantz, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Schantz and son and Mrs. Fred Bat tels. Mr. and Mrs. W. I. Moore called Sunday afternoon on Mr. and Mrs. C. E. Klingler. Mr. and Mrs. Earl Hilty and daughters spent Sunday evening with Mr. and Mrs. Chas. Montgomery and family and on the way home Billy Ann had the misfortune of falling out of the car as she went to close the door. She received a number of cuts and bruises, but is getting along nicely. Miss Fern Hilty spent Sunday afternoon with Misses Betty and Roenna Solt of Rawson. The January clearance sale is on at The Lape Co. Mr. and Mrs. Rawleigh Moser and son spent Sunday at the Levi Hauen stein home. The Umbrella Bird An umbrella bird is a South Amer ican bird related to the bell birds and cotingas. so named because of its large umbrellalike crest which droops forward and almost conceals the bill. A feathered tuft several inches long also hangs down from the breast. The bird is about the size of a crow with glossy black plumage and builds a platformlike nest in the tops of tall trees. 4- 4- 4“ 11. 4- 1 4- 4- 4-. 4- BLUFFTON NEWS SUBSCRIPTION If your Yellow Label on this Issue Reads YOUP SUBSCRIPTION IS PUE NOW! JI Renew Your Subscription for the Coming Year Special Club Rates on Newspapers and Magazines 1939 PAGE SEVEN Helvetia, Swiss Village Helvetia is a Swiss village in the mountains of West Virginia. It is not on any of the main roads. The village is located about 25 miles southwest of Elkins. W. Va. It was settled by Swiss immigrants, who observe traditional customs and who are engaged in wood carving and cheese making. Storage stocks of butter remain high. Milk production on December 1 was about 5 per cent greater than at the same time in 1937. The pro portion of cows in milk as compared with total numbers is higher than in years preceding 1937. 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