Newspaper Page Text
The Parker Post AN INDEPENDENT NEWSPAPER. Published Weekly By— POST PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC. J. B. FLANAGAN, Manager. — : —_ subscription rates: One Year $2.50 Six Months 1 50 Three Months "5 NOT A PATENTED NAME. Without entering into a controversy between the friends and antagonists of the state administration over the public land question, w’e would like to cut away one section of the brush iii order that the combatants may see one another more clearly and that they may get at one another with greater faciilty. We would remove from among the matters in dispute the question whether the state land commission exists in violation of, or without the authority of the enabling act. The matter of its existence with-; out the authority of the enabling act may be dismissed at once as having nothing to do with the case, for none of the interested machinery of the state is authorized or is pretended to be authorized by the act; neither the land commission nor the tax commis sion. nor the livestock sanitary board nor any of the state offices. Then, we come to the question of conflict between the act of the legislature, creating the land commis sion and the enabling act, creating a commission (not a land commis sion t, but a commission, consisting of the governor, the attorney general one other person for a single definite purpose, that of selecting the lands granted to the state by the act; that and nothing more. There is no con flict at all. The duties of the state land commission do not include the act of selecting the lands; that must be performed under the land commis sion statute as well as under the en abling act, by the governor, the at torney general and the state engineer If the two bodies have been given different names; say, if the state commission had been called a board, this question regarding its right to exist would not have been raised- But it really makes no difference what either is called. The enabling act did not patent or copyright the title which it gave to the commission created and designated by it. The enabling act, besides naming the commission to select the lands, describes certain things that shall be done, with reference to the selected lands. But, after having placed these limitations, it turns the whole busi ness of the administration of lands over to the state,aqd the state con stitution placed the business in the hands of the legislature which, hav ing laid down laws for the adminis tration of the lands, may provide for their execution, through a board or commission of any number of mem bers or through a single commission er. as the legislature of New Mexico has done. The first Arizona legislature cre ated a land commission of three mem bers to carry out such law's as the legislature had enacted with refer ence to these lands, but all these laws w r ere and must be subservient to the requirements of the enabling act. The duties of actually selecting the lands were left, for instance, to the board designated by the enabling act for that purpose. The state land commission exercised the pow'ers which the legislature could delegate to it, and. in addition, was author ized to do what the governor and the attorney general and the state engineer might have authorized any body to do —to investigate the lands and make recommendations regarding their selection. It w r as hardly con templated by tile enabling act that the governor and his associates on the commission should visit the mil lions of acres of land in person. It w r as not enjoined upon them to visit the lands at all. It was a matter left entirely to the state, and it must have been presumed that the state would take means to make the most judicious selections. ft must have been the notion of congress that the state would adopt some sort of a land policy, and, cer tainly, this policy w'ould have to be carried out by some executive body or officer. It was immaterial to con gress what we might call this body or officer—commission, board, com missioner.etc. W e trust that we have made this matter so clear that we will hear nothing more of it; that this wholly irrelevant phase of the dispute may be abandoned and that the quarrel may be narrowed down to the per sonalities of the members of the state land commission and to the question of whether the commision should consist of one or more mem bers and to the further question of policy which the legislature should adopt.—Arizona Republican. A CONSCIENCE FOND How an Apparition Followed a Victim Into the Desert and “Delivered the Goods.” By LYLE L. COLE. After walking 350 miles without find iug a town which pleased him, Oakley left the railroad track and turned into the tawny desert. He walked ten or a dozen miles far ther, straight across the shimmering sand, lashed by the thousand whips oi the sun, and then stopped to think the matter over. Looking backward over the path he had followed, he was pleased to see that even the faint, blush, perpendicu lar lines that had marked the location of the telegraph poles were no longer visible. There was nothing in sight to remind him of human beings. The sun was still high and the beat which had made the morning almost unendurable was yet oppressive. After satisfying himself that he was, indeed, beyond the probable reach of human eyes, Oakley stood for a few minutes, meditating. ‘I don't really believe that they have any idea where I am, and I doubt if they are still trying to And me,” he said. "But 1 can’t stay in a town two days without getting nervous. Every policeman l see appears to have dif ficulty in keeping his hands off from me, and 1 just have to dig. I feel safer out in the open, where there isn't any thing but animals —where everything skulks, the same as me.” He sat down in a partially shaded niche in one of the rain-gashed buttes, and fanned himself with his frayed hat. "Somebody says a guilty conscience doeth us up like a patent medicine,” he mused. ‘‘Wonder why consciences aren’t more appropriately distributed. Some men, like me, who have out grown the need of one, have enough to bother four men, and some w r ho need one badly are turned loose with out any. "One would suppose that when a fel low gets to the i>oint where he can kill another man his conscience would give him little trouble. “What was that?” He sprang up suddenly. “Oh, I see. Go it, you long-eared collection of legs,” he said, with relief, as a jack-rabbit hastened toward a line of bushes across the valley. Oakley followed slowly along the path taken by the rabbit. He knew the bushes were greasewoods, and thought there must be a stream near. Upon approaching nearer he thought he saw a man standing motionless near a bush. Therefore he turned quickly and slunk back along the ragged edge of a dry run. There was something suspicious, he told himself, in the fact that a man was doing nothing, or anything, in such a wilderness, and he could not afford to take any t hances. He crept to the top of the butte and cautiously took a position where he could watch the row of greasewoods. Lying flat on his stomach under the hot sun w'as trying work. He thought of something he had learned at school —something about earning bread bj the sweat of his brow. “Seems to me I’ve paid for aboiU five good loaves already,” he remarked, after half an hour had passed. “But where are they? I never did believe half of those copy-book tales.” He shifted to one side, and continued his reverie. “Now, 1 can’t see w'hy that fellow wants to stand there in the hot sun* like an imitation of Lot’s wdfe. ’Tain’t natural, nor even*sensible. Oh! You’re coining over here, are you? All right, mister. My latch-string’s hanging out, and there’s only one of you, so receiv ing callers is not going to be at all tedious.” Oakley laid an old revolver in a de pression in the sand. "You aren’t much like the gun the horse thief stole from me,” he said, addressing it meditatively. “It ain’t at all likely you’d shoot if 1 was to hitch wild horses to your trigger, but as far as looks go you’re a sight more impressive than none.” Several times the man straggling across the gleaming sand stopped and shaded his eyes with his hand, scan ning the horizon in all directions, but always completing the search with a glance at the butte where Oakley lay sweltering. Oakley watched him curiously, j There was something familiar about him. Was it his manner of walking? Oakley could not determine. Suddenly rhe man vanished from sight. Oakley rubbed his eyes and stared out across the vibrating heat waves. No one was in sight. Absolutely no I living thing could be seen anywhere, j And yet Oakley could have sworn that j a moment before a man was coming ! slowly toward him. He stood up and j peered eagerly into the desert. The ! look of wonder on his face changed I quickly to one of alarm. Ah! Now he had it. It had suddenly dawned upon him that the one he imagined he had seen was French. No one else walked like French. And if that was French there was but one conclusion, Oakley said to him self. *He was going insane. French lie knew to be dead, for he had killed him. Therefore, French could not be walking over the desert. Oakley knew i now that he was beginning to see j visions, to conjure up vengeful shapes, and to grope in mental darkness. Insanity—horrid, gibbering lunacy— ; had tracked him. self-driven from the I companionship of men, far out into the j \vi Her ness. It had left the railroad truck and the telegraph poles, even as lie had done, and followed him. It would always follow him. Oakley realized it all at once. There was no escape. No desolate region far from the haunts of men was secure from this insidious, insatiable Nemesis. No spot, crowded to the utmost by other , men, was inaccessible to this clammy monster of the brain. Yet Oakley shuddered at the thought of separation from his kind. Picking up his revolver, be turned to descend the butte. There before him stood French, grin ning amiably. The revolver fell to the ground, fill ing its muzzle with dirt. With a wild shriek Oakley dashed away. French j put out a nimble*foot and brought him to the ground, where he lay, stunned, i When Oakley regained conscious ness French was sitting near by, cross legged, masticating tobacco. Oakley sat up, and the apparition i handed him a piece of the w r eed. Oak ley took it and examined it carefully. It appeared to be genuine. Then he arose, and, walking up to the appari tion, felt cautiously about the head and shoulders. The genuine “feel” was there also. Oakley looked for a moment out over the Sand toward the railroad track, shook his head doubtfully, and sat dow'n. “Lord, w'hat a place!” | "Well, what’s the matter with it?” asked French. “Everything is so sort of confusing, 1 I can’t quite see clearly,” replied Oak ley. French took from his pocket a roll of bills, and separating several from the roll, handed them to Oakley. "See any better now?” he queried. Oakley thumbed them over doubtful ly, his mind still in a haze. After a pause he said slowly: “Well, yes, I I think the dawn is gradually illuminat- ; iug my darkened vision, and yet I I can’t — What is this money for?” “That’s your pay for killing me,” re ; spoiided French glibly, “and a recom- j pense for the anguish of mind which must have been yours when consider- | ing your awful deed. You see, Oakley, old man, when you became so angry at me, back in our little home town, and attempted to put me where I could no longer arouse your indignation, you failed utterly—didn’t even touch me with your bullet. When 1 fell, dazed by the bombardment, you evidently thought 1 was dead. Any way, you lied. Living, as 1 did, a bachelor on the outer edge of town, no one heard the shot and no one came to investigate. I happened to be out of money.” Oakley interrupted: “As usual.” f “I saw' a chance for a scheme,” con- ! tinued French. “My friend, the phy- j sician, came at an opportune time to | see me, and with hie assistance as the certifier of my death I passed from the ! knowledge of men, was duly and mournfully buried, and by unimagin able toil, together with the kindly aid of,my beneficiary, succeeded in realiz ing upon some fraternal insurance that happened to be fully paid up.” ‘‘Then you—you aren’t dead?” said Oakley meekly. "No, but pretty near it. What with following you through the infernalest country that was ever left out doors for the wolves to howl in, in order to reimburse you for being the founder of my success in life, or death, as you ‘ might say, and also considering the hard labor I endured tryin’ to estab- i lish my identity as a dead man, I am about dead. “Oakley,” he concluded wearily, j “don’t you ever try to accumulate ! wealth by the life insurance plan. Saw i w'ood or tend sheep, but don’t try to j get it by dyin’ falsely.” Oakley passed his hand over his forehead. When he drew it away it was covered with cold sweat, and thinking still of the apparition out on i the hot sand, he declared solemnly j that he never would. After a few minutes of silence, he said, holding out hie hand awkwardly, j “1 don’t feel so angry at you as 1 did, 1 partly because I’ve had a lesson that ! ain’t dow'n in the copy-books, and part- j ly because it is an unusual experience I for a man to have his victim pay him | for tryin’ to kill him. Let’s shake.” "Perfectly agreeable,” said French : amicably. "It w'as a good thing for me, tinan- j daily, that you once took to murderin’. Let’s go back to town and spend some of our money.” (Copyright.) Story of Families Much Alike. The romantic lives of the Roths childs and the Guggenheims, the two richest families in the world, are strangely similar. In each in stance the first representative of the family to start the fortune called to gether his sons. Five there W'ere of the Rothschilds, seven of the Guggen- ! heims. In each case the fable spun j by Aesop concerning the bundle of j sticks which cannot be broken if held together, but so easily destroyed each by itself, was told in the fashion of j the man who told it. . Both ufged loyalty to the faith of 11 Moses and commanded their boys to j obey their mother in all things and j remain united in the family by inter- i marriage—“and you will be rich among the richest —the world will be long to you.” There have been no de- , sections from the house of Rothschild; i but one from the house of Guggen heim. And large portions of the world do belong to them. Literal. "It must be a bitter experience to have to eat the bread of a stranger.” “I should say so, with all the ex posures they are making nowadays oi f< the bakeries.” jj the hanker post, NO BOOTLEGGERS. i Reports are received in Yuma daily : of the arrest or trial of bootleggers and the seizure of quantities of al | coholic liquors in various parts of the | state, but there has been no reports of such things existgin here, and in j the language of Frank J. Medina, a i government revenue official, who vis-j ited Yuma this week, “Prohibition j most certainly prohibts in Yuma. 1 was of the opinion that the law would be a farce and that liquor could be had here by a little manipu j lating, Njut I found it utterly impos i sible to get a drop of ardent spirits of any kind, while 1 had heard of it being obtainable in other sections of i the state. As I said before, prohibi tion is a sure thing in Yuma.” ; Mr. Medina was right and such con 1 ditions existing in Yuma and Yuma' ; county are due to the vigilance of j Sheriff Mel Greelneaf and his able I corps of deputies, who are ever on ! the alert for violators of the prohibi-1 tion tmendment and the strict en- j forcemeat of the law by County At-! tc.i ney Colman and the giving of suit able punishment by Superior Judge! tion amendment and the strict en-: I will be no tolerance of the violation j j of the law. —Yuma Sun. IT ISN’T YOUR TOWN, IT'S YOU If you want to live in the kind of a town, Like the kind of a town you like, j You needn’t slip your clothes in; a grip And start on a long, long hike. You’ll only find what you left behind,! For there’s nothing that’s really! new. | It’s a knock at yourself when you | knock your town, j It isn’t your town —it’s you. ! ! Real towns are not made by men afraid Lest somebody else gets ahead. When everyone works and nobody shirks You can raise a town from the; dead And if while you make your personal stake Your neighbor can make one, too, Your town will be what you want to see. I It isn’t your town —it’s YOU. S 1 - ■ i i NOTICE OF FORFEITURE. To Aura G. Bernard, her heirs or as signs: You are hereby notified that I, the undersigned, have expended during the years 1913 and 1914, the sum of ! two hundred dollars in labor and im provements upon that certain mining claim situate in the Santa Maria min ! ing district, Yuma county, Arizona, and more particularly known as the j Moll, which sum was expended as follows, to-wit: SIOO for the year 1913 and SIOO for the year 1914, as will appear from certificate filed in the office of the county recorder of Yum county, state of Arizona, in order to hold said premises under the provis i ions of Section 2324, Revised Statutes of the United States, being the am ount required to hold said mining. claims for the year ending December ! 31, 1913, and the year ending Decem ber 31, 1914. You are hereby further notified that if within ninety days after this notice of publication you fail or re ] fuse to contribute your proportion of such expenditures as co-owner, your interests in said claims will be j come the property of the subscriber i under said section 2324. The am ount due and unpaid for your portion of the work is as follows . One Hun . dred Dollars. C. W. GRAVES, j First pub. Jan. 2; last pub I Special Sale Prices ON FURNITURE . price Sale price Reg. price Sale price Folding Davenport $25.00 $17.00 1 Kitchen Cabinet $19.00 SIO.OO 1 Rd. Dining-room Ped Table, high fin. 23.00 15.00 2-3 Bed Springs 4.50 3.50 1 Glass Front China Closet 25.00 17.00 Double Bed Springs 6.00 4.50 1 Sq. Dining-room Ped Table, high fin. 13.50 8.00 2-3 Iron Beds (white) 4.25 3.00 1 Swinging Hammock 12 50 8.50 Dining-room Chairs 2.25 1.75 % Come in and see our Special Sale Prices on gro ceries. We can save you money in everything. Bring in Your Mail Order List and Let us Figure with You B. M. FUQUA, Manager 9 Keep Posted On the Great j Parker Country By Subscribing For THE I PARKER POST $2.50 per Year A DO YOU KNOW The Famous Kaizen jammer Kids? If you do you’!! be tickled most to death to hear that they have ‘ come back \ If you don’t know them now’s the time to get acquainted. The kids are funnier than ever and chuck-full of new tricks and jokes. They surely have their fun, but usually pay for it in the end. Don’t miss seeing them . every Sunday in the Comic Section of the LOS ANGELES EXAMINER Send in Your Subscription Now— Today! to the City Drug Store. The paper will be sent to you direct by mail.