THE H£AKT ,0f.
NIGHT WIN&
A STORY OF THE GREAT NORTH WESTV
Oy VINGIE e. ROE
ILLUSTRATIONS 6y /fry COAlrzfcSK
QOPYft/C/iT OY POOD. HEAD AM COMPANY ' '
SYNOPSIS.
%x
CHAPTER I—Siletz of Daily’s lumber
camp watches a strapper mishandle his
horse in climbing tiie ridge and directs
him to the camp.
CHAPTER TI—Walter Sandry Introduces
ri7??e,f to 1>aily. foreman, as ‘-'the
Dulingworth Dumber Co., or most of it."
CHAPTER III—Sandry makes acquaint
ance with the camp and the work he lias
tome from the East to superintend and
make successful.
CHAPTER TV— Sandry wisely decides to
leave immediate supervision in the hands
of Daily and writes to his father that
he intends to get a handful of the wealth
in the uncut timber of the region.
CHAPTER V— Sandry gives Siletz per
mission to ride Black Roll, his saddle
horse.
CHAPTER VI—Sandry In an emergency
finds himself no lumberman, but proves
to the foreman that he does not lack
Judgment. Siletz tells Sandry of the
Preacher.
CHAPTER VII—Sandry discovers that
Siletz bears the sign of the Siletz tribe
of Indians and wonders what her sur
name is. In the flush of a tender moment
he calls her "the Night Wind in the
pines" and kisses her.
CHAPTER VIII—Poppy Ordway, a mag
azine^ writer from New York, comes to
Daily’s to get material for a romance of
tii. lumber region. Hampden of the Yel
low Pines Co. wants Sandry to keep off a
tract of stumpage he claims title to and
Sundry thinks he has bought as the East
Belt.
CHAPTER IX—Hampden sets up a
cabin on the East Belt and warns tres
passers off. Sandry can find no written
*' idenee of title to the tract. His m«*n
■ pull down the cabin. Sundry compares
Siletz and Poppy.
" “Mrs. Dally,” he said suddenly, “what
Is S'letz?”
The old lady turned on him quickly
the piercing glance of her sharp eyes.
“Just a girl,” she said succinctly.
She turned to her realm and Sandry
rose and went out in the mist. He
climbed steadily with something of
the logger's movement. This much he
had learned along with a thousand
other things of the free life, and yet
he was a novice—Johnny Eastern
still.
He was thinking deeply as he
climbed, lost in the majestic silence of
the hushed pines with the stilling car
pet of needles at their feet, and it was
some time after the first sounds from
ahead had come to him dimly that he
wakened to the loud voices of men in
quarrel. As he broke through the wall
ot dripping waist-high fern he came
full upon a sight that stirred his blood,
and Ared his wrath, in spite of his ef
fort to keep calm. There in the new
cutting stood Hampden, his face red
with fury, his eyes snapping, his dou
bled fists shaking at Daily who front
ed him. Behind the two the men were
grouped in menacing bunches. They
were huge fellows, every one of them,
as if they had been picked purposely,
bare-armed, open-throated, wet with
the constantly falling, soft mist.
Those of Hampden were armed with
pikes and peavies to a man—and these
are deadly weapons. Daily's crew car
ried axes and several had cant
hooks,
"I told your Johnny Eastern to stay
off this here land!” cried the owner
of the Yellow Fines, his voice running
up on tlie last word in a squeak of
rage, “an' I'll see 't he does! An’ you
an’ your river hogs that you pass as
loggers! Rotten outfit, ye are! You’ll
git off an’ stay off! This land belongs
to me by right of good money paid
up’ you tore down O’Connel’s home
steader’s cabin! That’s ag'in the law!”
tie thrust out his heavy face belliger
ently, inviting insult, a first movement
of violence. It came, not from Daily,
the easy-going, tactful foreman, who
had righted many toppling crises, but
from Jim Anworthy, the curly-headed
young scapegrace who was the worri
ment and favorite of ,Ma Daily. He
flung himself forward with a whoop.
“Rotten are we! ’Live clean to th'
heart! ”
Ana witn a ugntning pass ne siappen
Hampden square in the face, leaping
backward like a cat. In a flash the
two groups of men had mingled and
the silent woods rang with a conflict
that was a delight to every heart in
the mixup, with the exception, perhaps
of Hampden, who was too small and
mean of nature to love anything for
its own sake.
Sandry on the outskirts beheld it
with consternation.
“Daily!” he cried at the top of his
voice, “Stop it! Call them off! John
Daily!”
But he caught a glimpse of his fore
man’s face and it was alight with a rol
licking laugh and his great hands,
doubled into slugs, were pounding into
the melee like pistons. Here and
there a face ran blood and one blue
shoulder, shoving up for a minute,
gaped like open lips, it had been
ripped to the bone by a pike point, and
It belonged to Collins, the insolent
giant. Suddenly Sandry felt himself
helpless and small, a reed before a
flood, and he was filled with wonder
at the force of these untamed dwell
ers of the wilderness. He had seen
men tight before, but never like this,
in such deadly enmity, with such glo
rious disregard of consequences. They
had leaped together facing cant hook
and paavey as if they went to a pillow
fight, and there, was a laughter of rago
upon most of tho faros he could
glimpse m the surging mass.
“Men!” he shouted, .jumping up on a
stump. “Ilampden! Hampden! Daily!
Hampden!
A hare arm shot forward into a fare
which crumpled and sank out of sight
and the owner of the arm looked up
at him.
“tome off your perch, Johnny!" he
; cried with the insolence of indiffer
ence, and even in the excitement ot
i
1i n , i i
Began a Systematic Search for Word
of the Narrow Tract.
the moment the thrust went home to
the young owner Ilis jaw tightened
and lie marked the man, one of the
fallers, for future reckoning.
How the fight would have ended
Sandry, thinking it over afterward,
could never decide. They were evenly
matched in indent, the two factions,
and nearly so in numbers, though
Hampden’s force was a trifle the
Stronger.
Blows rained fast and furious.
! Blood was flowing freely and the oaths
and laughter ha*l given place to pant
i ing silence.
i ‘‘You low-down cheat'” he hoard
Daily say as ho closed with nampdon.
! "Wo'tl— settle—a few- thin its -now.”
There was the scent of heated flesh
arid of warm blood in the close, moist
i air, arid the clump and swish and
I crunch of heavy boots threshing the
fern. From under the trampling feet
| ho caught sight of a limp figure, crum
pled on its side.
Something in its ghastly stillness
; caught at his heart and set a purpose
j in its horrified amai’.e.
He must stop this thing at any cost.
, Springing down he caught up a long
| blacksnake whip lying coiled beside a
stump. It had evidently come with the
Yellow Pines outfit, for what purpose
he did not know, for there was not
' such an article anywhere in camp.
Raising his arm he whirled it back
to send the long lash singing in among
the struggling mass, when a sound.
1 coming clearly out of the brooding
stillness of the great pine woods, ar
| rested him.
It was the high, silvery note of a
flute. Shrill and clear, it cut into tne
rush of the fight like a Hashing blade,
j The men heard it. even through the
; fight rage. Here and there the furious
1 action halted a moment, without voli
tion, it seemed, and a man drew quick
ly out on one side In the moment's
hush that followed a whole cascade ol
sparkling notes fell from the ridge
like a handful of diamonds trickling
down, and sweet and tender came the
strains of “Lead, Kindly Light.”
Daily caught his antagonist by the
throat and hurled him backward,
opening up a space in the locked and
panting swelter.
“The Preacher!” he panted. “The
I
!
!
|
Preacher's cornin’!”
With common consent the two far
tions fell apart, the Yellow Pines own
er getting to his feet blind with the un
caring anger of the bully.
So it was the Preacher who was com
ing thus with the herald of those sil
ver notes—the Preacher whose worn
old P.ible lay in the little south room
and whose name brought the light of i
gladness into the somber face of
Siletz.
Sandry, still holding the trailing
whip, waited expectant. What he be- !
held,.when at last the player came out
in a watery bar of the slanting light, 1
astounded him beyond measure.
The stranger wore a garment of
some coarse brown fiber, buttoned j
down from the throat to the feet and
belted at tlio waist, with hempen rope.
He carried his flute high with a mar
tial air, as if it told of v;etory and
conquest, and his thin form walked
lightly and erect. White and tine and
delicately lhied, the face above shone
radiantly from between heavy hair
which fell in long, loose curlk, white
as tho winter snow. Blue eyes, under
level brows, looked out with the half
vacant innocence of tho very young.
For him the world had stopped some
time ago. As he emerged through the
fern, Sandry saw that the brown gar
ment was wet tjj the knees, the heavy
i
shoes upon his feet sodden with
earth.
"Ah, John, my son'" he said in a
voice as gentle as his eyes, "it has
been long since we met! 1 have
wearied on the way for the faces ot
friends! ”
He held out a hand, slim and shape
ly, yet which bore the look of one-time
strength. The foreman took it, after
wiping his own swiftly on his cordu
roys.
"We hen waitin’ for you a long
time,” he said, "an' we're mighty giad
you've come.”
The stranger nodded and. turning to
the shifting lumberjacks, went round
among them with a word for each and
that same delicate handshake. Before
he reached Hampden, the owner of the
Yellow Pines, straightening his dishev
eled clothes, swung out of the group.
As he passed Sundry ho glared into
his face.
"I'll stop you before another twenty
four hours," he said savagely, “and
don't you forget it. Your little deed
to the East Belt an’ this strip happens
to have been made by a bogus owner,
who soaked old Frazer for a pile an'
cleared. It's been filed on as a home
stead an’ sold to me, an’ I’ll see you
in hell hut what I’ll get it—all. I was
keepin' the bolt as a surprise party for
you, but 1 guess it's due right now!”
The vindictive triumph in his small
eves was a guaranty of his'earnest
ness' and Sandry returned it with a ‘
glance as earnest. “You speak in rid
dles, Mr. Hampden," he said coldly,
"and I’m inclined to think the pommel
ing John gave you has injured your
mentality.”
The Preacher reached him as the
other turned away, followed by his
men. who shouldered their tools and
disappeared through the undergrowth
in a shambling file, abandoning the
fight for other means.
'A stranger?” asked the newcomer
extending that fine white hand, "a
stranger at the camp?”
"The new owner, father,” volun
teered Daily, "Mr. Sandry. '
“Ah, yes! You are young sir, in the
wavs of the world! But God guides the
feet of the young. It is a labyrinthian
path—the way of youth! There are
butterflies along it and primroses, and
both are so easily trod underfoot'
Ah, so easily! And a little farther
dong there 1s regret and shadow Ah,
neJ Ah. me! What is the way out?”
He turned troubled blue eves to the
foreman and the latter, strong and
umbering as an ox. laid a light touch
lpon the sacred flute.
The troubled eyes dropped thereon.
“Why—certainly, liow could 1 for
get!”
And lifting the instrument and his
silver head he answered his wistful
query with the plaintive sweetness of
' Jesus, Dover of My Soul.”
“That,” he smi ed, "is the way out,
son, in case you should lose yourself
in the shadows—the lonely shadows
of dishonor and sin.”
fie laid his hand on Sundry's arm
nnd slowly tlrfe young man s face grew
darkly crimson. His lips twdtched and
he turned away. “I’ll go down to camp, I
son,” said the • preacher to Dally. !
"there are those there who are al- I
ways there?”
There was a quick sliding of some
thing like fear in his voice.
"All there,” said Daily kindly as the
peculiar arrival turned away.
"He is a hit embarrassing at times,
Mr. Sandry," he apologized, "but inno
cent—and a bit o’ the God he preaches.
Says lie’s the father of all things fath
erless. It s the strongest grip of his
trouble, the idea that he’s a father to
I I l I ' l' ft 1
Answered His Wistful Guery With th«
Plaintive Sweetness.
everybody an’ everything that needs
him—regular lunatic on the point
Pitiful sometimes in iiis eagerness j
But lie’s loved from Seattle to Santa
Barbara, and known all over the
coast."
‘‘Let's go down to the trail," said
Sundry, changing the subject; ‘we'll
rush the work on the double <iuiek. Put
on an extra crew. I'm going to akt
heed to that swindler's words, lie
meant what ho said. There s some
thing crooked here."
CHAPTER XI.
An Unrecorded Deed.
The Preacher proved to be tb«
strangest thing in all this strange
country to Sundry as ho watched him
in the days that followed, lie spoke
but seldom and then with a quaint pre
cision, a beauty of speech anil thong!,(
that amazed the man from the East
But they were old thoughts, Sandrj
found at last, thoughts formulated ir
g-- -t*
the fire and enthusiasm of youth, lienet
still burning when youth had tied and
age had brought its empty seeming.
“And it is there,” he said to himself
“that S’letz gets her manner of speech
though her visions are her own, borr
of her centered soul.”
At the end of the week Sandry went
to Saletn. When he returned his fact
was drawn as if from loss of sleep
and he summoned Daily to the office
Sandry pulled open a drawer in his
desk and took out the deed to the East
Belt.
“This,” he said tensely, “has nevei
been recorded. I searched the records
at the land office and our deed is nol
there. Instead there is a brand new
homestead filing in the name of T. .1
O’Connel. Daily, either old Frazer was
crooked or a fool. '
There was a strained, note in tlif
owner's voice. IBs foreman r. t in th(
tip-tilted office chair, open-iueuthed
and round-eyed.
“Then Hampden's got th’ strangle
holt—damn his soul to hell! iis
know's about the con; rack an1 ne 11 biik
it if he can. But Frazer wasn't crook
ed, Mr. Sandry, I’d stake my life or
that.”
"Then why did he sell me the East
Belt stumpage—the prize card in the
Billing worth pack—without a record
ed deed? 'ibis isn’t worth its paper.
lie waved the folded slip.
“And why didn't you verify all pa
pers, .Mr. Sandry, when you made the
deal?”
Daily was entirely earnest and un
conscious of the effrontery of his
words. Sandry’s boyish face flushed
painfully.
“Inexperience,” he sa'd bluntly;
“faith in men, though by all the signs
I should have lost that, and lastly nc
conception that such a thing could be
done. Our first move now, nowever
is to find Frazer.”
Daily shook his head.
“That new bucker we took on yes
terday in the bunch of new men told
me last night that Frazer was in
’Frisco two weeks ago, and was goin
south. Sailed on the mail boat for
Panama.”
Sandry regarded his foreman grimly
out of sparkling blue eyes.
“Then,” he said, after a moment's
thought, “we ll save our contract first
and fight for our stumpage later. ’
He rose and began gathering up the
papers on his desk.
“At noon,” said ho, thinking rapidly
and with astonishing ease in this, his
first business crisis, “you will take
every man off the present work. We
will build no more trail toward the
East Belt now. Instead we will lay
track as fast as possible into the tim
ber at the head of the valley there to
the north. You know that contract
calls lor six million feet of logs to ha
in raft at Yaquina bay by the sixteenth
of March. If it is not there we lose
our big profits and the connection with
j this powerful company. Now get busy.”
I Speculation and comment were rife
in camp when Daily announced at
noon that all work along present lines
was to be dropped and that all hands
were to fall to laying track to the
north.
“By jingo.” grumbled Collins openly,
“we’re gettin’ scairt out by th’ Vella
Pines! Ef it ain't plum'i disgustin’!” j
“Quit?" cried Jim An worthy, "lot a
bunch o’ cutthroats call us quitters?
What’s eatin’ you, John?"
“Orders,” said the foreman warning- j
ly, and the men buzzed like a nest of
hornets. Among the old hands at the
camp it waj almost a personal affair
and they took it to heart, criticizing
with that freedom which characterized
their kind and laying the blame upon
the new owner, the tenderfoot from
the East. Feeling at the abrupt giv
ing up of operations at Hampden's
threats ran so high that three old
timers—including Smith the hook- !
tender, a jewel in the crown of any
logging camp—rolled down their
sleeves and called for their time.
“Can't stand the atmosphere," said
little Smith, settling "his round, nar
row-brimmed felt hat a trifle forward
on his bullet head, “it’s gettin’ too cul
tured. We’ll be asked to stop swearin’
next, an’ eatin’ with our spoons. Me
fer th’ timber right. I don’t like civili
zation.”
“Let them go,” said Sandry grimly,
“I’ll learn how and tend hook myself
if necessary.”
Days slipped by so swiftly that San
dry scarce found time to count them,
and they were all too short. He was
out before day had even crept up the
eastern slopes of the great Cascades,
and was still going when it died half
across the Pacific to the west. He
ate like a logger and slept without a
dream.
The dampness freshened his cheeks
and curled his hair into a riot under
his gray felt hat; and Siletz, glancing
sidewise from under her level brows,
flushed darkly beneath her dusky skin
at the wonderful man beauty of him.
She could not forget the day in the
fern glade when he had stooped to
her for that passing kiss. She felt a
constant pulling of all her nature to
fall in a little way behind and follow
him. This feeling puzzled her and
several times she caught herself al
most in the act when he passed
through the Di> room, or paced the
length of the porch.
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.
Productive Land Used
British Honduras presents the in !
congruous picture of a u’aturai *rei n
house, capable of growing almost j
every ordinary edible people c n d<
sire, importing nearly all of its food
from oversea. Its natives know noth
ing whatever about agriculture bul
the government has finally set aside a
tract of land where modern fanning
will be attempted under direction of j
practical meu.
m
tJWRING HALF THE TIME HE HAS
RESIDED IN ARKANSAS—RE
CEIVED APPROXIMATELY $30.00C
FROM THE TAX PAYERS.
WAS NOT A VOTER
. IN 1904-5-6-7-8
Paid Tax Only When He Began Run
ning for Governor.
To the People of Arkansas:
I he professor is strong for wanting
to make other people pay their taxes,
but he is weak on paying taxes hiifl
Belf. For the first six years the pro
fessor was in Arkansas (teaching po
litical economy in the university), he
drew approximately $12,000 from the
taxpayers of the state, and only paid
one little measly dollar in taxes hack
to the state. The poll tax goes into
the common school fund, to help sup
port the common schools, and to edu
cate the little children of Arkansas.
The following table, taken from the
records of Washington county, shows
that he did not pay one cent of taxes
for the years 1904, 1905, 1906, 1907
and 1908, although he was being fed
and clothed by the tax payers of Ar
kansas during that time.
What the Records Show.
Slate of Arkansas, County of
Washington—ss.
1, Thad Berry, a notary public with
in and for the county and state afore
said, duly commissioned and acting
do hereby certify that, so far as I have
been able to ascertain, after having
made a diligent search of the records,
the foregoing is a true and correct
statement of personal and real estate
assessments and tax receipt books of
Washington county, Arkansas, so far
as the same show any assessments
made or taxes paid by Dr. C. H.
Brough of Fayetteville, Ark.
In witness whereof, I have here
unto set my hand and seal of office at
Fayetteville, Ark., this January 18,
1916.
THAD BERRY,
Notary Public.
My commission expires February 1,
1919.
Dr. Brough Paid No Poll Tax.
The Doctor is strong for the Uni
versity fpaying him), but apparently
does not car« to help the common
school fund himself.
He talks about good roads, hut for
five years, while a resident of Arkan
sas, he did not pay any road tax, t1ie
only road he cared for, apparently,
being the road to the state treasury.
He loves Arkansas for what he can
get out of the treasury, it seems. He
came here to accept a well-paying po
sition, and the chances are that when
defeated in this race he may go West,
where his fortune is located. He has
been paid approximately $30,000 by
the taxpayers of this state, and I un
derstand forwards his surplus money
to the Utah National Bank, in Ogden,
Utah, where he has wealth, estimated
at from thirty to fifty thousand dol
lars thus not paying any taxes on
this money in Arkansas, and depriv
ing the banks of Arkansas of this de
posit.
Negroes to Be Assessors.
He advocates the assessment of the
real estate in Arkansas by the jus
tices of the peace in each township,
which he says will make everybody
assess their property. It is well known
that there are one hundred and fifty
negro justices of the peace in South
and East Arkansas. I know that the
people In those sections are not for
that plan, and that the white voters
of the other parts of Arkansas will
not force It upon their neighbors in
that part of the State. 1 am not in fa
vor of any new offices, hut it might hr
well to rgnploy some additional collec
tors in Washington Countv to help
collect t.he poll tax from Professor
Brough. We should not be surprised
that the professor advocates negro as
sessors, as it is in Ijne with Ills
speech made in behalf of the negro
race in Washington, I). (’ , in which
he said that the white man should
not object to being the “winning part
ner of ttie negro.”
Qualified Voter Only Six Year*.
The records of Washington County
show that tilt' professor lias been a
qualified elector of Arkansas only six
years, although he has been drawing
a high salary for twelve years: and
everybody know* that he bus been an
—«»—fir— i ■ r
avowed candidate for governor eve*
alnce he began paying hi* poll tax.
If the professor voted In the va
rious city, school, congressional, gen
eral and primary elections the five
years he failed to pay his poll tax, he
committed each time an indictable of
fense. If he did not vote he was dere
lict in his duties as a citizen, and is
not worthy 01 the support of the tax
pers for any position, much less for
governor of the great State of Arkan
sas. He has been professor of poli
tical economy in the university; his
main idea of political economy ap
pears to be tax dodging.
Great Teacher This.
A great teacher to instill into the
rising youths of the land the princi
ples of good government, when it ap
pears he himself was shirking the
first principles of citizenship! He
tries to compare himself with Wood,
row Wilson (what a shame!). He Is
due the president an apology. If lie
did go to school to Wilson, Wilson
couldn't help it; however, the facts
are that he did not go to school to
President Wilson, but was in another
university where Wilson occasionally
lectured. Woodrow Wilson was presi
dent of one of the greatest universities
of America for many years, but Dr.
Rrough has never been mentioned, nor
even thought of, by any of the univer
sity boards as being qualified for the
position 01 president of the University
of Arkansas.
I am a native of Arkansas and have
been a taxpayer ever since I was twen
ty one years of aga; I do not believe
the good people of Arkansas will de
feat me for governor and nonilnare a
man who is merely passing through
this Stale. I have faith in the good
people of Arkansas and I submit my
candidacy to them.
Very respectfully.
EARLE W. HODGES
Candidate for Governor of Arkansas.
JUDGES NEED NOT
MAKE RACES NOW
Supreme Court Makes Ruling in
Test Case of Hendricks Vs.
Hodges.
The Arkansas Supreme Court de
cided:
That it is not necessary for circuit
judges and other officers named in the
1915 act consolidating state and na
tional elections, whose terms expire
in 1918, to become candidates at the
election to be held in 1916, and that
Karla W. Hodges, as secretary of
state, was correct in refusing to file
the pledge under the corrupt practices
act offered by Judge U W. Hendricks.
“A literal reading of the act would
(sustain the contention of Judge Hen
drickB, but the court is of the opinion
thaJ the meaning ot the legislature
would not be gained by such reading,'’
Chief Justice E. A. McCulloch said in
an opinion affirming the Pulaski Cir
cuit Cour.. s decision on the new law
providing for consolidation of elec
tions. The opinion, handed down,
holds that the eight chancellors. 21
circuit judges and other officials
whose terms expired prior to Novem
ber, 1918 need not be nominated tn
1916 to run for re-election in 1918.
The last legislature passed an act
consolidatihg state and national elec
tions, and Judge Hendricks interpreted
the act to mean that in order to be a
candidate to succeed himself as cir
cuit judge when his term expires In
1918, he must run in the primary tn
1916, and ottered hts pledge under the
corrupt practices act. Secretary of
State Hodges refused to file it. The
Supreme Court ruled that the legisla
tion would not be gained by a literal
reading of the act as the act also pro
vides for the election of United States
senators at biennial election, when the
constitution of the United States fixes
their terms at six years. Confusion
would also result in election of state
senators, who are also mentioned in
the act, as It would cause senators to
be elected two years in advance of the
commencement of their service and
would cause them all to be elected the
same year, which is in conflict with
the constitution of the state and other
statutes with reference to the elec
tion and qualification of officers.
The Supreme Court held that the
legislature did not intend to change
the whole policy of the law merely
to bring about a consolidation of elec
tions. "It is true, the opinion read,
"that the terms of constitutional offi
cers expire on October 31, and that
the election in 1916 will take place
after this date, and would thus result
in an extension of the terms of these
officers, yet there is no constitutional
inhibition against this exercise of
power by the legislature, where as art
Incident to changing the dales of
elections, the terms of officers ace
lengthened a short time. The legisla
ture unquestionably has the right to
change the election dates, as it has
done, but the court holds that the art
does not require those wdinse terms of
office expire in 1918 to become randt*
ds'es si the election held this year,
and that ,TudE° Hendricks candidacy
was premature, and that Secretarv
Hodges was right in refusing to ao»
cppi and file his pledge
Baker Denied Rehearing.
Ttie court denied rehearings in the
cases of Special School District No. 79
vs. Special School District No. 2, af
fecting the rights o* school districts,
appculed from the i.reene Circuit
Court, and Albert Raker vs. Dr. Frank
R. Young. Baker was seeking release
from the State Hospital for Nervous
Diseases, where he was sent hy the
Franklin Circuit Court after being
freed of murder on the ground of la
gfuiity.