THURSDAY, JULY 30, 1942
By
THE STORY SO FAR: Clay Morgan
has decided to play a lone hand against
Ben Herendeen, a rancher bent on run
ning the cattle country ius own way.
The two men have been enemies for
years, having first fought over Clay’s
wife, Lila, who died hating him and
believing she should have married Her
endeei?. Morgan is a solitary figure,
devoted to his nine-year-old daughter,
Janet. Although two women, Catherine
Grant and Ann McGarrah, are in love
with him, they know he cannot forget
Lila. Of his former friends, only Hack
Breathitt has not gone over to Heren
deen's side. Gurd Grant. Catherine’s
brother, hesitated about joining Heren
deen. but became Morgan’s sworn ene
my when he discovered that Catherine
had been to his ranch. Learning at
the last minute that Government Valley
is to be auctioned at Sage City 190 miles
away. Clay rides all night and arrives
In time to outbid Charley Hillhouse,
Herendeen’s foreman. When he learns
that Herendeen has sent a party oat to
find Hack Breathitt and kill him. Clay
starts out to find him first. He goes to
Freeport, to Kern Case’s store, where
he thinks he will find Hack. As he is
talking to Case, Herendeen appears in
the doorway.
Now continue with the story.
CHAPTER
On the same day Morgan retained
from Sage City, Charley Hillhouse
had pulled into Three Pines and re
ported his failure to Herendeen.
Both of them had been thoroughly
certain of success and now Her
endeen sat in astonished silence,
the back of his neck flushing and his
hazel eyes freezing on Hillhouse.
Charley felt this bad luck keenly it
was a personal loss to him, so
complete was his loyalty to the
ranch, so partisan a man he was.
He rolled a cigarette, laying his
shoulders against a porch post.
There was no sweetness in the
smoke.
“If we’d kept that damned notice
down another twenty-four hours—’’
Herendeen said: “He was at the
dance Friday night. He couldn’t of
seen it. That's why Harry Jump
came to town in such a lather.
What’d he pay?”
“Eleven thousand.”
“Why didn’t you keep on?” said
Herendeen, irritably. “Why didn’t
you snow him under? My God, Char
ley, I send you two hundred miles
for something we had to have, and
you buckle up.”
“You set the limit,” pointed out
Hillhouse. “I went to the limit and
that’s all I could do.”
“You should have figured the
limit didn’t mean a thing against
Morgan.”
Hillhouse defended himself with
blunt warmth. “I’m no mind read
er. I can’t guess what’s in your
head, Ben. When you lay out some
thing for me to do, either give me
free rein or else be damned sure
how you tell me to do it.” He threw
the cigarette away. “Well, we’ve
lost it.”
“Charley,” said Herendeen, “the
country ain’t big enough for both
Morgan and me.”
“So it’s fight,” said Hillhouse, and
let the long silence fall while he
soberly considered the answer. He
sighed a little and at last shrugged
his shoulders. “Been a long time
coming.”
Herendeen said: “Stay clear of it,
Charley, if you feel like that.”
Hillhouse shook his head. “No,”
he mused, “a man can’t be half of
one thing and half of another. He’d
be a mighty poor man. I’ll do what
I got to do. If it means I lift a
gun against Clay Morgan I’ll do it—
and God take pity on me for it.”
He gave Herendeen a searching
glance. “But don’t make no mis
takes about Clay. When you call
his hand you better be ready to go
right on with it. What do I say to
him when he asks me to move those
cows?”
“Let him worry about that.”
Hillhouse didn’t like the answer
and was on the point of saying as
much when Herendeen broke in.
“Right now we’ve got Hack Breath
itt to find. Take out three-four men
and beat up the country around
Dell Lake.”
Hillhouse hadn’t heard about that.
He said, “Whut’s he done?” When
Herendeen told him, he considered
it over a long interval. Afterwards
his shoulders rose and fell, expres
sively shaking away a good many
memories. “I guess the wild bunch
finally got him. Been teeterin’ on
the edge of crookedness a long
while. Well, I’ll find him.”
Long as he had known Charley
Hillhouse, it astonished Herendeen
now that his foreman should so
calmly accept the dismal chore of
hunting down a man who had been
one of his deep friends. Long after
Hillhouse had lined out across the
flats, Herendeen puzzled it around
his head. As for himself, Heren
deen had no scruples to explain
away. He was a cattleman protect
ing his range by whatever means
necessary, with an ambition to ex
tend that range by whatever means
necessary. A man in this land had
rights if he was big enough to hold
them if he wasn’t big enough then
he had no rights. This was Heren
deen’s philosophy entirely.
But Hillhouse had in his long cool
head a strange standard of right
and wrong and a zeal as passionate
as that of a fanatic. This kind of
man could do terrible things and
feel terrible emotions. He was,
Herendeen thought, like a fellow
packing a stick of dynamite in his
pocket—uncomfortable at times to
have around.
This was the extent of Heren
deen’s thoughts on the matter. Turn
ing to his horse, he lined out through
the Haycreek Hills, reaching Crow
foot at suppertime. He stopped here
for his meal and later made a little
talk on the porch with Gurd and
Catherine.
SADDLED RIDE
Ernest Haycox
Ip
.A
“Next time you go over to Mor
gan’s, don’t bother to come back.”
“Charley pulled out this afternoon
to round up a few men and scout
the west side of the Moguls. We’re
after Breathitt. I’ve got Bones Mc
Geen up on the high trail, near
Ketchell’s.”
Gurd said, “Believe I’ll go sit in
with Charley. Where you going?”
“Toward Freeport.”
Gurd said: “Better be careful.
That’s a tough district.”
Herendeen let out a huge laugh
as he went to his horse. “Gurd,”
he said, “I never saw the man I
was afraid of or the piece of brush
I couldn’t ride through.” Late fall’s
twilight began to deepen around the
yard it turned the porch gray.
From his horse Herendeen watched
Catherine, who had said nothing at
all. These shadows quenched the
shining of her copper-red hair. But
she was strong and shapely, the
roundness of her upper body hav
ing its effect on him. Her face
was a pale oval against the dark
background her eyes were very
black. When she stirred, arms slow
ly rising behind her head and chang
ing the shape of her silhouette, Her
endeen had his moment's intense
desire to get down from the horse.
Had Gurd not been there he would
have done so. He only said, “See
you later,” and fell into the Free
port road, never forgetting how she
had looked.
As soon as he had gone Cather
ine said to her brother: “You don’t
mean that, Gurd. Stay out of it.
Hack has done nothing to us.”
Gurd walked down the steps.
“Never mind. We’ve got to stick
together.”
She said: “Do you realize it is
Clay’s friend you’re trying to kill?”
“Then he had better pick better
friends.”
“You’ve changed,” she said.
“What’s happened?”
He came back up the steps and
stopped before her. “Sure, I’ve
changed.” His voice was monoto
nous and odd. “Morgan had his
chance to stick with us and didn’t
do it. Then let him go to the devil.
He’s not my friend now.”
“Listen.” she said, “you’d better
understand me. There will never be
a rider of the Crowfoot outfit sent
after Hack, or used to run errands
for Herendeen.”
He said, “Who’s running this out
fit?”
“You are, as long as you stick to
business. What’s the matter with
you lately?”
He seized her arm then, his face
drawing near enough for her to see
distrust on it.
“Next time you go over to Mor
gan’s don’t bother to come
back.”
She pulled free of his arm and
hit him across the face with her
hand. She said, “You’re a small
little boy, Gurd. Why don’t you
try to be a man?”
He shouted, “We’ll see!” and
jumped off the porch. A moment
later he raced out of the yard,
bound over the Haycreek Hills to
ward the west flank of the Moguls.
The clay dust of the road was a
ghostly glowing ribbon unrolling be
tween the shadowy timber banks,
and as Herendeen traveled he made
a perfect target for the rustlers and
the fugitives and dispossessed nest
ers who made camp in the lost hide
outs of this section. They hated all
cattlemen. He knew this perfectly
well and watched the black margins
of the road with a sharper attention
than usual, but it never occurred to
him to turn back. In this man was
a belief, strong as a shield of steel,
that no bullet would ever reach
him. This belief completely gov
erned Ben Herendeen’s life.
The road, rising from the tim
ber, reached a small burn on which
the black and gray snags of once
living timber showed a stripped
gaunt pattern against the swelling
moonglow. Entering this barren
spot Ben Herendeen caught the
smell of dust, and at once squared
his heavy body on the saddle, mean
while dropping a hand to the butt
of his gun. Over by the far mar
gin of the burn he saw a horseman
drift into the pearly, diffused light
and halt by the road. Herendeen
let his horse singlefoot forward
and so came upon the waiting
shape. Then he slowed down.
The man said: “Ben?”
Herendeen hauled in. “Nothing
wrong with your eyes, Pete.”
Pete Borders chuckled. “How
could a man miss? You throw a
shape big as the side of a barn.”
Herendeen said: “Late for you.
Or maybe a little early.”
Pete Borders said in his easy,
amused way: “Just enjoyin’ a pret
ty night.”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Fire away. I guess we have
done some talkin’ before.”
Herendeen said: “I wouldn’t trust
you out of sight, Pete, and if I
ever caught you with one of my
cows I’d hang you higher than a
kite.”
“Ain’t ever caught me, Ben.”
“Remember what I’d do if I did,”
retorted Herendeen. “Do your steal
in’ in other places and we’ll get
along. I propose to run every hay
wire rider out of this country in
short order but if you stay clear of
me nothin’s going to trouble you at
all. I can use a fellow like you
once in a while.” He thought about
it, letting the silence settle gently
between them. Then he said: “Go
up to Government Valley and work
over Morgan’s stuff. He’s too short
handed to watch that end of his
range.”
“Ben,” said Borders indulgently,
“you sure make me ashamed for
bein’ a piker. You’re a bigger crook
than I ever thought of bein’.”
“You grind your coffee in one
mill and I’ll grind mine in another,”
said Herendeen taking no offense.
“I can make it hard for you, or I
can let you alone. Just work along
like I said.”
“Sure,” said Borders. “But keep
your riders away from that district
at night so I won’t be bumpin’ into
’em. I got to cross your range.”
Morgan stood with his back to the
stove, gently rubbing his hands
along the seat of his pants. Kern
Case, grave and unmoved, mur
mured: “Evenin’, Ben.”
For the moment nothing else was
said. Herendeen ignored Case,
studying Morgan with his round ha
zel eyes half-shut. He filled the door
way with his heavy legs and high,
huge shoulders.
Morgan brought his hands for
ward, reaching for his tobacco to
make up a cigarette. This was the
length of the silence. When he
struck a match and cupped it to his
face he stared over the rim of his
fingers, reading Herendeen with a
steady interest. The man had swung
into the room quickly, as though to
surprise somebody and he stood
now with his thoughts pretty much
on his face, his glance rummaging
all the dark corners of the room.
Morgan thought he knew the an
swer to that. Herendeen had expect
ed to find Breathitt here.
Herendeen abruptly crossed the
room, his weight squealing against
the worn floorboards, and walked to
a rear door. He turned the door’s
knob gently, he kicked the door
open.
Kern Case’s voice echoed his dis
like. “Get out of there, Ben. That’s
my room”
Herendeen was in it, moving
around slowly he came out again.
Somewhere above them a board
snapped, throwing Herendeen’s head
instantly upward. Herendeen stared
at the ceiling and back at Morgan.
“If you’re here, he’s here.”
Herendeen stared at Morgan, his
lips pressed together. He was faint
ly smiling, hard and certain and
slowly keyed-up by his temper.
“He’s here,” he grunted. He walked
on to the front door He put his
back to Morgan, watching the street.
Morgan said: “Keep your eyes
open, B«n.”
Herendeen didn’t turn. He said:
“I see nothin’ to be afraid of, Clay.
As far as you’re concerned, I never
did.” He stepped to the porch and
wheeled around, looking upward at
the second-story windows of the
store. He held the hard-creased
smile on his lips he teetered on the
balls of his feet and drew his gun.
He fired at the window, breaking
the glass, and walked into the door
way again, swinging around to
watch the street.
(TO HE CONTINUED)
Armorsville
Mrs. Grace Hancher returned to
Indiana after spending a week with
her sister Mrs. W. I. Moore.
Mr. and Mrs. Harry Battles and
son, Mrs. Eva Montgomery, Mrs.
Ruth Spellman and daughter called
at the Chas. Montgomery home Fri
day evening.
Mr. and Mrs. Cecil Hartman and
family spent Sunday at the O. P.
Hartman home.
Mrs. Dorothy Bell, Miss Betty
Edinger and Mr. Thomas Bell were
Sunday dinner guests of Mr. and
Mrs. Ivan Montgomery and family.
Mr. and Mrs. W. I. Moore called
at the C. E. Klingler home Sunday
evening.
Miss Sue Montgomery is spending
several days with Mr. and Mrs.
Robert Matter of Lima.
Jay Hartman spent Sunday night
with his brother Cecil Hartman and
family.
Mrs. Rhea McCafferty, Margaret
Guider and Mareen McCafferty call
ed on Mr. and Mrs. Wayne Guider
and daughter of Lima Sunday after
noon.
Don Oates is spending the week
with Tommy Owens of Lima.
WE PAY FOR
HORSES $6.00
COWS $4.00
(of size and condition)
Call
ALLEN COUNTY FERTILIZER
23221—LIMA, OHIO
Bevan* Tai. Chart** E. G. Bachaiab, Inc.
THE BLUFFTON NEWS, BLUFFTON. OHIO
How to Display Coiling Prices
F’
Mainly,
PeUAHcd
Wonder if the town’s mosquito de
fense is cracking... .or if those wing
ed dive-bombers have picked up a few
new tricks and outsmarted Lee Coon’s
oil gun squad... .anyway they must
have brought up reserves Sunday
when we futilely slapped at ’em most
all night....and then there was the
heat.........and humidity.... and men
about town are taking to slacks like
a duck takes to water........ no more
gossip from Tuffy’s place for the du
ration....... groceries closed Thursday
afternoons......... or aren’t they....as
Confucius say “no can tell”... .ten
ris interest picking up with county
tourney in the offing........ and local
golf on the wane....and fall’s just
around the corner... .date for school
opening in September will be fixed by
board at its meeting next Monday
night. .. .and here's ano her reminder
to get your coal bin filled before La
bor day.
Best laugh of the week is the form
ula we saw the other day to make a
spray control of thrips—oats bugs to
you. Here’s what you nsed—64
ponds of brown sugar mixed with two
pounds of Paris green in 100 gallons
of water. But where is the sugar .to
come from—and if we had it we could
think of a lot of things we would
rather do with the sugar and get
along with the thrips.
Chester Huber who keeps rural
route newspaper subscriptions paid up
around here had the distinction of
taking the first peaches of the season
to the Amstutz cannery Monday af
ternoon. Chester says the peach crop
in this section will be good.
It may be a long way from running
America’s military selective service
machinery to talk about chicken
hatching, but General Lewis Hershey
head of the nation’s draft machinery
did just that last week when he ad
dressed the International Baby Chick
association convention at Grand Rap
ids, Mich. U. S. Amstutz of Wis
ner, Neb., who with his wife are vis
iting here this week attended the con
vention at Grand Rapids and heard
General Hershey. The general is a
pleasing speaker with a good fund of
stories, Amstutz said, with none of
the gruff, hardboiled manner of the
movie type general.. Amstutz, a form
er resident of the Settlement near
Bluffton is extensively engaged in the
hatching and poultry business in Ne
braska. This year he is raising 1,000
turkeys beside keeping a flock of
■yfy
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Where articles in different price-lines are physically
mixed, ceiling prices may be displayed by price-lines
if article is marked by asterisk in Appendix of
Regulation. In addition, the selling price must be shown
on each individual item. This applies, for example, to
dresses, suits, coats, shoes and shirts.
3,000 laying White Leghorns.
The fish really bite at Madison
Lake, Bronson, Mich., and Fay Isham
has photographs to prove it. Isham
and Lester Young and families spent
a week this month at that place and
really pulled out some big ones. Pike
is the principal catch there, altho
thre are plenty of pan fish, they re
port.
EVERETT FOR JUDGE
of COURT OF APPEALS
EMMIT E. EVERETT
Lima, Ohio
Gerald Swank, North Main street
barber who recently enlisted in the
navy left Tuesday for Great Lakes
Training Station. Gerald, it was, who
stood on his head atop the town hall
roof as a farewell gesture a year or
so ago when some of the boys left.
Well, there wasn’t anyone who vol
unteered to stand on his head in hon
or of Gerald’s departure, but the boys
did give him a lot of parties, some
dinners and best wishes, for which he
wishes to thank one and all.
Yes sir, they’re really mixing up
their music in this collection of phono
graph records for the boys in service.
We were poking around in the can in
front of the bank just to see what
sort of records were being discarded.
The first one we nicked up was a
Chopin waltz—and right next to it
was “Red Hot Mama'’—we didn’t look
any further.
They may be driving as fast and
furious thru town as they did before
Pearl Harbor—but that doesn’t tell
the whole story—you don’t have to
drive very far before you’ll find a
car pulled up at the side of the road
while the driver is wrestling with a
spare tire. And that is especially
true on Sundays when daddy takes
the family out for a spin in the old
family car.
For many years Chas. Coburn ha.
been sending choice large white
peaches to Mr. and Mrs. B. F. Biery.
Years ago they came from the Co
burn farm, east of town. A num
ber of years ago some of the t.’ees
were transplanted from the Coburn
farm bore fruit for the first time
this year and Mr. and Mrs. Biery were
again the recipients of the choice
large white peaches.
Bob Ramseyer says that he doesn’t
want many days like the one last
week when he hiked 26 miles within a
24 hour stretch. In the evening he
hiked seven miles. Early next morn
ing he enjoyed a bird hike of five
miles with Scoutmaster Karl Gable.
In the afternoon he took a nine mile
bee line hike and in the evening play
ed the Battle of Bunker hill game in
which he estimated he ran and walk
ed another four miles making a total
of 26 miles. That evening he was so
I am a candidate for the
nomination for Judge of the
Court of Appeals of our Third
Appellate District at the Pri
mary Election, August 11, 1942,
and earnestly solicit the vote
and support of each Democrat
in the District.
I am a Democrat, experienc
ed trial lawyer and trial judge
engaged in general practice of
law 1906-1930. Common Pleas
Judge Allen County 1930-1939,
and now Vice Chairman of
Ohio Pardon and Parole Com
mission.
I believe that an office is a
public trust and that an officer
should be a public servant.
Lima News Editorial:—
"Judge Everett's training educa
tion and experience rccitnmend
him for this important post.
A Word to Your Friends Will be Appreciated
THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT
While serving as Judge of the
Common Pleas Court the oustnnd
ing cases of his career were those
of the Dillinger gangsters which
were of national interest."
exhausted that he could hardly drag
himself to bed.
Sleep, these nights, is something
you try to snatch between battles with
mosquitoes. After a period of almost
complete inaction the little pests have
started their nightly forays with a
vengeance. Druggists here report
that in the last 10 days sales of mo
squito repellants have picked up and
are now going great guns.
One way of shielding the torrid
summer sun is to wear one of the
broad brimmed light weight Frank
Buck hats specially constructed for
tropical climates. The following boys
have them: Bill Amstutz, Bill Mer
icle, Chas. Trippiehorn, Robert Strat
ton and John Schmidt. The boys say
that the hats are alright for the tem
perate zone too when it’s hot.
At Camp Defiance, Gordon Bixel
picked up a water snake that he plan
ned to give to Chas. Trippiehorn. On
the way back to camp the snake snap
ped at Gordon upon which he prompt
ly dropped the reptile. Charles told
him later that he would have had
nothing to fear from a water snake
bite. It would have been as harmless
as the peck of baby chick on one’s
hand.
Bluffton housewives are hoping
that their husbands will miss reading
the feature article by Dr. .Morris Fish
bein, president of the American Med
ical Association, appearing in a re
cent issue of the Toledo Blade. In
this article Dr. Fishbein says that the
people who work hardest, physically,
live the shortest time. He tells men
that they can exercise all they want
to up to 30, that they should slow
down by 35 and not to lift a finger
Judge
Neal L. Lora
Judge of Allen County Common
Pleas Court
Republican Candidate
For Judge of the
Court of Appeals
Primary Election, August
11, 1942
A our Vote and Influence
Appreciated
Neal L. Lora, Lima, O.
lb/
jg
‘Wj
PAGE SEVEN
unnecessarily after 40.
The learned doctor points out that
this is a summation of the modern
scientific attitude. In the animal
world, those animals that live the
longest such as turtles, exercise the
least, whereas physically active ani
mals like the dog or rabbit live only a
few years. This will be something to
remember when housecleaning time
comes.
Wild pheasants ain't so wild—at
least when they’re young—so Gene
Benroth learned. Gene who belongs
to the Sportsman’s club is raising
thirteen pheasants. The birds, grow
ing up, find the pen somewhat con
fining, so Gene released them the oth
er day—but at dusk they all returned
and gathered arond the pen—and
Gene cooped them up safely for the
night.
perspiration rolled off the brow of
the Bluffton parcel post delivery man
Tuesday as several hundred Mont
gomery Ward catalogues were deliv
ered thruout the town. We weighed
one of them and found the reason for
the perspiration. Each of the cata
logues weighs seven pounds.
Experimental evidence indicates
that hay cut while wet with dew
will dry as quickly as that cut the
same day after the dew is gone.
The complete list of foods avail
able for purchase with blue food
stamps during August will be fresh
pears, peaches, plums, apples, and
oranges all fresh vegetables includ
ing Irish and sweet potatoes shell
eggs, butter, com meal, hominy
grits, dry edible beans, wheat flour,
enriched wheat flour, self rising
flour, enriched self rising flour, and
whole wheat flour.
NOW...
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For that clean, fresh, vigorous feel
ing at the end of a hard day, nothing
is more relaxing, healthful and enjoy
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you feel like a new person. An abund
ance of hot water for every need is
yours at the turn of the faucet when
you use GAS
WEST OHIO GAS CO.
BRENT B. HARSH
FRIEND VOTER: I am ask
ing for your vote and support
at the Primary Election to be
held. Tuesday, August 11,
1942. At that election I will
be a candidate for Commis
sioner of Allen County on the
Democratic ticket.
I live in Spencer township,
Allen County, and am 58 years
of age. Married. One daugh
ter. A member of the Spcnc
ervill Grange and the Spencer
ville Progressive Association.
For 12 years I have served as
Trustee of Spencer Township,
and for 7 years have served on
the Spencerville District School
Board.
If nominated and elected, I
can promise you my honest and
sincere services. Any favors
shown me will be greatly ap
preciated.
BRENT B. HARSH
Route 2, Spencerville, Ohio