THE LAST TRIP
OF LITTLE BETSY
By HOWARD E. MORTON
(Copyright, by Shortstory I’ub. Co.)
"Get yo’self ’long. Miss Fannie. Ain't
no use o’ loafin'. Go 'long. Miss Fan
nie. Jes’ looka Miss Jennie. She’s
done run clear way an’ mos’ pull her
purtv neck off. Go 'long. Miss Fan
nie. go ’long.’’
An old negro, with white hair that
fell almost to his shoulders, sat on
the high seat of a heavy mountain
wagon, and after having thus deliv
ered himself to the off leader of a 12
mule team, relapsed into silence. Miss
Fannie seemed to understand the re- j
buke, for she laid back her long ears,
snorted resentfully and trotted along
for some distance at a pace that kept
her chime bells and trace chains
Jingling merrily. The negro smiled
approvingly and gazed aimlessly up
the hot, dusty road which wound and
undulated among the foothills.
Black Jim, for that was the only
name he had known for nearly 40
years, prided himself on his ability j
to handle horses and mules. Many a
time in his young days on the old Cali- j
fornia ranches, when some wild bron- ;
co, fresh from the range, defied every |
vaquero in the corral, Black Jim j
•ntnnnintl tlir* animal anrl lirmiP'Vit it !
hack in half an hour thoroughly
tamed and tractable. His fame was
known through more than one Califor
nia county and for years he traveled
from ranch to ranch earning a living
as a horse breaker.
On the first day of each month the
quicksilver output of the New Idria
mines was shipped to the metropolis.
The heavy iron flasks, filled with the
metallic fluid, were loaded into Black
Jim's big wagon at the refinery and
then Jim and his mules would clatter
away through the town on a hundred
and-twenty-flve-mile drive to Moss
Handing, on Monterey bay. The trip,
down across the San Benito valley
and over the range of low mountains
that fringes the shore of the Pacific,
usually occupied five or six days, and
it was necessary to take food for
himself and the animals. This was
packed in a small, light rig. the tongue
of which was coupled to the heavier
wagon with a stout chain. Jim called
his smaller vehicle Little Betsy, to dis
tinguish it from Big Betsy, which car
ried the quicksilver, and in it he
stowed his supply of hay and grain,
man sets ana teamster's paraphernalia,
besides enough provisions to suffice
for the journey. At Moss Landing Jim
would deliver the shipment to the
captain of a little coasting schooner,
who took it up to San Francisco.
It was on one of these monthly trips
that Black Jim found it necessary to
rebuke Miss Fannie for lagging be
hind her running mate.
Big Betsy rumbled briskly along
for some miles and Little Betsy
trailed behind with a merry staccato
rattle. The road wound higher and
higher among the mountains and the
level floor of the San Benito valley
had long since disappeared behind the
foothills. It was midsummer, and the
sun beat down at its fiercest. There
was no breeze to stir the air and the
heavy adobe dust kicked up by the
mules hung in a thick, choking cloud
about the outfit. Jim amused himself
for a time clipping off the tops of
wild flowers with the iash of his long
whip, but as the heat became more
and more oppressive he closed his
eyes and finally drowsed.
Consumption
is, by no means, the dreadful
disease it is thought to be—in
the beginning.
It can always be stopped—in
the beginning. The trouble is:
you don’t know you’ve got it;
you don’t believe it; you won’t
believe it—till you are forced
to. Then it is dangerous.
Don’t be afraid; but attend
to it quick—you can do it
yourself and at home. Take
scon’s
EMULSION
of C 11 dvcr Oil and live care
ful! every way.
Th:. i;; found doctrine, what
ev v >u may think or be told;
an i heeded, will save life.
St .1” tiicmcnt. together with name
of i ’■ it appears, your address and
fc * > 1 r postage, and we will send
yon , p.'tie Handy Atlas of the World."
Ss v .....AXE. 4oa Pearl St., New York
Habitual
Constipation
Nay to permanently ov evcome by proper
persona! efforts witMhe assistance
of Ihcorm truly beneficial laxative
remedy, Syrun of tigs and Elixir of Senna,
vvNicK enables one to form regular
nabit's daily so ilia! assistance to na
ture may be gradually dispensed with
when no longer needed as the best of
remedies, when required, are to assist
nature and not to Supplant the natur
al functions, which must depend ulti*
mately upon proper nourishment,
proper efforts,and right living generally.
To get its beneficial effects, always
buy/ the genuine
SyrupfFigs-^El ixir°f Senna
manufactured by ike
1 California
Fig Syrup Co. only
SOLp BY ALL LEADINC DRUGCISTS
one size only, regular price 50t per Bottle
He was awakened suddenly from
his nap by a snort from the leaders,
followed by the crisp command:
“Hands up!”
.Jim rubbr. his eyes stupidly and
stared aheac * rough the cloud of dust.
The wheel mules were humped up in
their breeching, with the rest of the
team banked in against them con
fusedly. The leaders were kicking and
smiPnllmr A jra i n thu vmr»» caid
sharply:
“Hands up!” And as the dust
cleared away, a man with a double
barreled shotgun at his shoulder grad
ually took shape at the side of the
road.
“Dev's up, dey's up! Put down de
gun, fo’ de Lord's sake! Dey's up!”
Two dark brown palms were raised
skyward. The man lowered the gun
and looked searchingly into the ebony
face.
The man was tall and roughly
dressed and his features were masked
by a thick, matted black beard that
covered the face almost to the points
of the cheek bones. Another man,
shorter than the first, swarthy like an
Indian, and hideous from the loss of
an eye, emerged from behind the lead
ers' heads and the two held a whis
pered consultation. Jim sat on the
high seat with upraised hands watch
ing them covertly, his small eyes still
blinking. The men conversed for a
few moments and then the one with
/vii r> Altd up him
foot on the spokes of the fore wheel.
“Look here—you,” he said savagely,
his fingers playing with the trigger of
the weapon that lay across his knee.
“Kin you drive this here outfit over
Tucker's Cut in the dark?”
Jim looked down at the shotgun
and then at the one ^yed man, whose
single orb glared at him ominously
from under the dirty remnant of a
Mexican sombrero.
"I ain't gone an’ train dese vere
mules fo' nothin’,” was the enigmati
cal reply. The man below made a
gesture of satisfaction.
“Well, that's what we want. Let’s
come to business. We’ve got a schoon
r at Goodall's old landing, 'bout ten
miles above Moss. Tkiu here load of
quicksilver Is worth 'bout ten thou
sand dollars to us an' we're goin’ to
have it. Now, there’ll be five hundred
dollars in yer pocket if you haul it
safe to the landing. You git yer mon
■y when we git the stuff aboard.
Stand in on this deal an' you kin go
back an' tell ’em you wuz held up, or
my old thing. We ll be on the way to
Mexico—we won’t care. If you won’t
stand in—well—”
He patted the stock of the gun sig
nificantly and glanced at his com
panion, whose visage distorted itself
into a horrible grin. Jim took off his
oat and nervously mopped his head
vit h a red bandana handkerchief.
“Well, what d’ you say? Are you
join’ to stand In an’ make the five
hundred, er are we goin’ to throw yer
corpse under the bridge an’ take the
earn ourselves?” He impatiently
jerked his thumb toward a little
stream crossing the road a hundred
yards ahead.
"EL Miss Fannie an’ Miss Jennie
goes ober de cut, ole Jim goes too.”
He paused a moment and looked at
the two men expressively. “I reckon
de five hundred bucks doan' grow on
many ob de trees roun' yere, so ole
Jim's goin' to make hay ’fer shore
while de sun shines.”
He smiled broadly, and in spite of
the mixed metaphor Involved the two
seemed to understand him perfectly.
"That's the business,” affirmed the
man with the gun. “We don’t want
to have no shoot in’ or nothin' like
that in this job. Do we, Joe?”
Again the horrible grimace spread
over the face of the man with one eye.
He shook his head by way of answer,
clambered into Little Betsy and
stretched out at full length on the
sacks of grain. The other man fol
lowed and seated himself on the pile
of hay, the shotgun resting across his
lap.
"Now go ahead," he commanded.
Jim whistled to the loaders and the
outfit moved forward once again with
the jingle of trace chains and hame
bells and the rumble and rattle of th
tandem wagons.
It was almost dusk when they
reached the point where Tucker's Cut
branched off from the main road. This
cut was a short route over the moun
tains to Goodall’s Landing and was
little used because of the heavy grades
and poor condition of the roadbed,
which in some places was even dan
gerous. A stream crossed the road
here and Jim got down to water the
animals before the long ascent. The
man with the gun had been nodding
but as the teams came to a standstii.
he woke up with a start and gripped
his weapon alertly. After the thirst
of the animals was satisfied Jim
looked over the harness and spent
considerable time adjusting the coup
lings w’hich bound Little Betsy to her
ponderous sister. Joe slept soundly
on the grain sacks, the empty socke'.
where his eye once had been staring
upward into the gathering gloom.
Again the bells and chains jingled
and the team began to climb the eui
The road became rougher and wound
in and out along the sides of a steep
ravine. It was almost dark now. hut
the leaders picked the way, avoiding
washouts and other obstructions with
marvelous sagacity. Above them the
black shadow of the mountain side
loped upward to the stars. On the
other side, so near sometimes that th
outer wheels crumbled the edge
yawned a steep canyon. Along the
bottom, several hundred feet below
i small stream flowed over a bed of
stones and boulders.
Several times Jim looked furtively
back over his shoulder at the two men
in the rear wagon. Joe lay out
stretched on the sacks, slumbering
heavily. The man with the gun s?y
on the hay, his chin drooped forward
• n his breast and his head swaying
from side to side, as the wheels
bumped over the ruts and stones it
their path. He, too, was sound aslee-.
Jim peered through the darkness fo;
some time at the limp figure, the-’
stooped and quieilv wound the jerk
line around a cleat on the footboard
The mules remembered their training
and continued their steady pull up the
grade. Noiselessly the negro climbed
down from the high seat and crawled
over the iron flasks to the rear of Blr
Betsy, Here he paused and listened
intently. He could hear the heavy
breathing of the two men only a few
feet away. In a moment he slipped
over the end of the heavy vehicle and.
clinging with one hand to the tail
hoard, deftly unwound the chain that
fastened the tongue or tne am»u<>r
wagon in place. Again he looked back
into the darkness and listened. He
could see the faint outline of the man
sitting upright and back of that the
lark figure on the sacks. With a quick
tug he loosed the last loop of the
chain and shoved the tongue back
ward and outward with all the
strength in his black arm.
Little Betsy hovered for an Instant
on the edge of the descent and then
with a creak toppled over into the
canyon. An awful shriek came up
through the darkness, and then the air
was filled with the sound of breaking
wood and metal as the inas3 shot,
end over end, down the rocky decliv
ity. A miniature avalanche of stones
and dirt rattled down into the creek
AND THE PAINS OF
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bed, and the surrounding mountains
and ravines sent back an echo of that
bloodcurdling human cry. Then a 1)
was silent.
The mules stopped, trembling in
their tracks. Black Jim slowly mount
ed to the high seat and mopped his
forehead with the red bandana.
"I reckon old Jim ain’t goin’ ter get
hung fo’ doin’ his duty by de boss,”
he murmured reflectively as he
lance.l down into the blackness of
■he unvon. The jerk line whisked
' ..rpiy, the hame bells and trace
•hi.: is jingled and Big Betsy moved
10 the grade again into tlie night
Burbank Talks About Pecans.
Bather Burbank, the horticultural
wizard of California, is quoted as say
ing, regarding the possibilities of the
pecan industry of Texas:
"If I were a young man I would go
to Texas, knowing as I do the possi
bilities of the pecan industry, and de- j
vote mv life in Dronosratinv new
Railroad Time Card,
WHITE RIVER BRANCH
SI. L. I. m. S S. Ry.
Trains pass Newark as follows:
GOING WKST
No. 210 (passenger).. ...
No. 248 (mixed i .
going kast
No. 2r>9 (passenger).
No 24", (mixed).
• • • 7:43 a. id.
.. .12:52 p, rn.
6:48 p. m.
9:05 a. m.
F. C. Hoyt, Agent.
ECZEMA AND ALL SKIN DISEASES
'.re quickly cured by ZEMO, a dean
"i'ed f^r external me. ZEMO is the
t known remedy for the instant relief
(> i nrnmve cure of ecxeimi, pimples,
■ ;e'.. n(r piles and every form of skin
jt scalp disease.
species of the pecan and in doing the
same work there in nut culture as I
have done here in other lines of hor
ticulture. Your pecan is superior to
our walnut, and you are standing in
your own light; why not develop it?
On Mount Etna.
The characters of ail the climates of j ]
the earth can he detected -the frigid ' ,
close around one, the temperate with !
its belt of trees Just underneath and
the tropical at the base of the moun
tain, with its vineyards and luxuriant 1
groves. The great ocean around, with !
the islands of Lipari, Panari, Alictidi
Stromboli and Volcano, with their
smoking summits, appear under your
feet, and you look down upon the
whole of Sicily as upon a map._Ex
change.
i'
,,'" i..'' everywhere. Write for sam
J Vv- Hose Medicine Co., St. Louis.
The Lurid Glow of Doom
vas s'T‘n in th ered face, hands and
»ody of the little son of H. M-Adams,
>f Henrietta, Pa. Uis awful plight
l inn eczema had, for five years, defied
ill remedies and bullied the best doc
°rs, who said the poisoned blood had
i fleeted his lungs and nothing could
■ ave him. “Hut.” writes his mother,
'seven bottles of Electric Bitters com
pletely cured him.” For eruptions,
‘czema, salt rheum, sores and all blood
disorders and rheumatism Electric
Hitters is supreme. Only 50c. Guar
anteed by J. I. Sturdivant.