8
3
(Oopyright, 11)0.!, by Willikm Wallace Cook)
(Continued from last week.)
CHAPTER VII.
PARREL FINES THE MAN IN COR
ELROYS.
Darrel’s senses had not been taken
away by tjie fall from the wagon or
the dragging along the trail, but for a
moment after the explosion his con
sciousness left him. When he stag
gered to his feet, and looked back, the
mountain wagon had disappeared as
if by magic, not a splinter of wood or
piece of twisted iron being left.
A huge hole had been scooped oul of
the trail and great bowlders had been
riven and tossed about in every direc
tion. Beyond Ihe ragged pit lay the
form of Gryce. close to the seat of the
wagon.
The obi man lay still and silent and.
alter a few moments spent, in collect
ing his scattered wits, Darrel started
towards him. He had not gone far.
however, when lie heard the hoof falls
of horses and instantly remembered
the party of mounted men which had
alarmed him a short time before.
Turning sharply to the right, Darrel
plunged into the undergrowth that bor
dered the trail. Ascending Ihe steep
slope of a hill for a dozen yards, he
halted in a thicket and crouched there j
with his eyes on the road below.
Gryce was sitting up on the ground. |
rubbing his forehead in a confused
way and peering around. The men of
Sandy Bar. riding around the spur,
came suddenly upon him.
Darrel watched and listened intent
ly. What would be the next move of i
his enemies? he was asking himself. j
The horseman gazed about them in
astonishment. Cliff dismounted and
walked to where the old man was sit
ting.
“Did the giant powder let go.
Gryce?" he asked.
“I’m jest tryin' to figger out what
hapnened," replied the under foreman.
“I teem to be all here. but. my! wasn't
it awful, I got the roar in my ears
yet."
“How does it come you’re sett In'
there with the seat of the wagon?”
asked another of the Sandy Bar men.
L,
GAMBLING
WITH FATE
By WILLIAM WALLACE COOK
Author of "Tho finld fileunera: A Story of
the Ctunido Tanks,” • Willi? » l>an,"
“lin Friend the Enemy,” ’-Itogi-ra
of Butte,** Klo., Btc.
Me ?. A.-*/} A 3*-^V»!* A. •Is.-A./E.'-A.:??;
“(lot thrower! out o’ the wagon,”
paid C.ryce, “an" it’s the beat thing that
ever happened ter me. 8’posin’ I'd
been in the old trap along with that
other feller? I’d be where he is now,
an’ that’s tellinV’
“That other fellow went up with
the wagon, did he?” inquired Cliff.
“Sure. He was hangin’ to the lines
when I shot out o' the wagonbox with
the seat. He stayed with the wagon
and the high explosive, all right, an’
1 reckon he's still with ’em Got
blowed ter atoms, that's what he
did."
The Sandy Bar men exchanged
glances, then swerved their eyes to
take in the havoc wrought by the ex
plosion.
“Don't ye know. Uncle Ab. that was
the chap that killed Sturgis and gave
us Hie slip at the Bar, last night?"
“Ye don’t mean it!"
“it's the truth." returned Cliff. “We
saw you just before you took that turn
in the trail and we knew the man ir.
a minute."
“Then.” returned Oryce, after a
period of re.WMon. “that’s why he
let the bronks out inst’id o’ pullin’ ’em
in nt'tor lie looked back an’ saw von
cornin’.” He got up painfully. “Well,'
he added, “it’s all right; five hundred
pounds o' high plosive is as good as
a tree and a rope, only mebby not so
satisfy in’. Wonder how I'm goin' ter
set m>self right with the super, at the
War Eagle?”
The Sandy Bar men were not. con
cerned with Uncle Ah’s troubles and
dismounted to make a more thorough
examination of the surroundings.
From the thicket above. Darrel
watched them moving here and there
searching for any gruesome relics that
might have been left.
All that was found was the crown of
a derby hat deep in a clump of torn and
twisted hazels.
"It’s Darrel’s,” said Cliff, walking
towards his comnanions and holding
the object up for inspection. "There is
no doubt about it, boys. Fate has
taken this matter in hand and avenged
the murder of Sturgis. Darrel is dead.”
"It would he a heap more satisfyin
if we could find,some r mains ter prove
it,” averred one of tlie m^n. “Would ii
Vie possible for a man to be blown ofl
the face of the earth like that?”
“Why not,” rejoined Cliff, impatient
ly. “If the wagon and its load were
blown to atoms, the same fate musl
have happened to Darrel.”
"Let’s have a look around before w<
settle on that,” answered the doubter
“It seems as though we ought to fine
somethin’.”
The Journal one year, one dollar.
I Like a wraith Darrel turned and
glided away. A grim humor filled him.
“They believe I’m dead." he thought.
“Let them think so; it's the safest way
out of thi>- trouble, for me."
He was bruised in body and limb,
but life was at stake and he counted
his small injuries as nothing. Through
the hills that bordered the trail he
took his course, keeping steadily west
ward.
At last, completely fagged, he
I dropped down on a rock to rest. He
| had not had a mouthful of food since
escaping from Sandy Bar and the ex
■ ertions called forth by his flight had
I left him weak and nerveless.
What was he to do now? he inter
i rogated himself? To don a disguise
; and get out of the country would be
comparatively easy, but he had no
| desire to get out of the country.
There was still that unsettled score
with Murgatroyd. He was doggedly
! determined that nothing should come
! between him and that..
| But that must bo secondary, now.
I His first work, if he could devise a
, way, must be to prove his innocence '
j of the murder of Sturgis.
In his secret heart he had per ’ ' ’
himself that Murgatroyd had .1
I Sturgis, and with the deliberate in' m
; tion of involving him—Darrel. It was
a fearful suspicion to hold against a :
man, but none knew Murgatroyd’s se- 1
cretiveness, cunning and desperate ,
I methods better than Darrel.
Now, if ever, was Darrel’s time to
! take his fate in his hands and make of !
| it what he would. The very audacity i
of the measure appealed to the fugi
tive.
As he sat there and rested a puzzling ;
thought came to him. It had to dp
with the explosion of the giant pow
der.
Just what had sot off the explosive’
It could not have been the shock caused
by the collision of the front wheels of
the wagon with the boulder, for the
effect would then have been instanta
neous.
The bronchos had dragged him by
I the bits out of harm's way between the
moment of the collision and the mo
, ment of the explosion. The time re
: qtiired had been brief indeed, yet long
j enough to convince him that some
I thing aside from the wrecking of the
wagcjn had set off the powder.
It was not until some time afterward
; that he learned the truth. Gryce was
hauling to the mine giant powder that
had long been in storage—so long that
it had become crystallzed. And every
miner knows how "freaky” crystallzed
giant powder is. It will sullenly sub
mit to the roughest handling or will
incontinently explode for the slightest i
5 '-2 '-3 3 --3 -3 '-3 -3*-3 -3 -Stn » ’-St '-3 -2 -3 -3 -3 -St --3 3 •.
0" ^35 • <—» • 00 ■ 00 ■ 00- 00 ,m> ■ 00'’ 00 00 00 ■ 0* ' 0” ■ 0*' 00 0* ' ^ V~.>J>
PETER ANDERSON & CO., |
NEWPORT, = ARKANSAS, ft
SOLICITS YOUR TRADE t
W The best of Wines, Brandies, Whiskies and d/
^ Cordials always on hand. di
/{5 SATISFACTION GUARANTEED it
m
t$\
OR YOUR MONEY BACK.
't>
9\
$ MAIL ORDERS
$ Given Special Attention. Always Send
^ Dash to Insure Prompt Shipment.
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of reasons, or for no reason at. all.
The siin was low when Darrel not
up and staggered on. He must have
tood and had hopes that lie could se
cure it in some covert way at the War
Ragle mine.
Still pushing from covert to covert
through the rough country that paral
leled the trail, he kept persistently
westward. The sun went down and
darkness began to fall but, although
his head swam for weariness anu his
limb- almost refused to support him.
the ir.itive continued to struggle on.
Just as he felt that he must sink to
the ground and lie there for the rest
of the night, tlie whinnying of a horse
reached his ears. The sound did not
come from the trail, hut from some
point on his left.
Turning in that direction he made
his way painfully through a small
coulee whose steep banks flung a
heavy shadow about him. The pas
sage was short and he came out
abruptly into a cleared space lying full
in the moonlight.
Before him stood a horse secured by
a stake-pin and a length of rope. Be
hind the horse was an old, ruinous log
hut—evidently a relic harking back to
earliest pioneer days.
Darrel advanced closer to the horse,
which whinnied again and tramped im
patient ly. A shock of surprise passed
through him when he came near
enough to see that it was the “calico
cayuse” ridden by the man in cordu
roys.
(To he continued.)
a* A.•/!» A. - A '!'A "t-4-31 - A.-'1'- A
LOCAL MARKET REPORT.
Carefully corrected every Thurs
day afternoon.
Apples, dried, per pound. .. .04
Beans, dried, per bushel.. .. 2.25
Butter, per pound.15
Eggs, per dozen.25
Corn, per bushel.50
Cotton, lint, per pound.07F
Cotton seed, per ton. S.oo
Molasses, sorghum, per gal. .45
Potatoes, Irish, per bushel.. .90
Potatoes, sweet, per bushel. 1.00
Turnips, per bushel.50
KILLED MOB LEADER.
Osceola, Ark., February 5. M.
Conley, colored, is in jail at Osce
ola. for the murder of his cluld*
near Barfield. He was arrested
at the time and a mob gathered
and attempted to take him away
from the officer*. Conley killed
the leader of the mob as they were
putting the rope around his neck,
and seriously wounded another of
them. He then went to Cotton*
wood Point and surrendered.
Blank note and receipt books at
The .Journal office.
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0 DAYS OF SLAUGHTER.
Our buyer will leave for the markets in a few days
to buy goods for our three big stores, which we now
own and control, and in order to make room for our
Mammoth Spring Stock
We must close out our heavy goods, regardless of cost.
It is unnecessary to quote prices. You are the loser if
you fail to come to i s for your February purchases.
All Outing Flan :els, Flannelettes, Red Woolen Flan
nels. Hoods and Facinators go at cost.
Big cut in Boyr. and Mens Winter Caps. All Mens,
Boys and Youths Clo ling at 25 per cent discount. Ten
percent discount on Vrunks and Telescopes. All Tin and
Granitware at cost. We can save you from 10 cents to
$1 on eve'-' pair of S'loes you buy.
«BBP" Big lot of Mens, Womens and Childrens, Rub
bers and Overshoes just received by Express.
YOURS FOR YOUR MONEY’S WORTH,
WHITING & COMPANY.
i
I
rs
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C. L. LOVE, Manager.
NEWARK, ARKANSAS.