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Sutton CW.Wtst t ' Gea'iMsr. Ass'c Gen'l Use Da. W. B, Caldwell's SYRUP PEPSIN A Doctor Family laxatit W. N. U, Salt Lake City, No. 31. ' TDae Vale. AtrsigdDini - : By FRED IVlcLAUGH LIN Author of "The DIade of Picardy" CeDTriik! bv Bohba-HerrH- I Ca, fWNU Serrtoo held this ship against an army. And the lean Indians filled out like dogs at a feast, and eyes bright-ened, and shoulders squared, and patriotism flamed again,. ..and strength came back to us strength of body find mind and spiritand the' will to win was ours, and a desire to pit against the enemy this renewed vigor that belonged to us. - ; We put away one more gargan-tuan nieal a breakfast and took, each, two pistols and a musket and sufficient ammunition to carry us through a score of skirmishes, and then we set the torch to the good ship Santa Lucreqla In a dozen dif-ferent places. We turned our faces southward toward the barrier range, where an enemy awaited us, and with songs of victory on our lips, we drove onward np the tim-bered slopes while flames spurted skyward from the doomed ship and, spreading into the Jungle, fash-ioned a raging hell behind us. We emerged from the cover of the forest and "fell upon the:thln line that held the heights. They must have considered us shrieking demons from the fiery pit tliat we had left, for they broke, crying out In the fullness of their terrors, and cast their weapons away as useless against the imps who had just es-caped, from the blazing tumult that devoured the Jungle. On we went, ever southward, down the forested incline that led toward the vast basin of Lake Va-lencia. East of Valencia we swept across the fields that were check-ered with green and brown. Free, battle; we win an empire or wt are for ever slaves." CHAPTER X The Battle of Carabobo. I THINK Bolivar as a toastmas-te- r was the peer of any man I have ever seen. It was his wont to bring his officers together once a week in what he termed a din-ner, but which usually developed into a well-order- carouse, for wine and rum and other spirituous liquors were cheap and plentiful in Venezuela. Bolivar, demanding only obedience of bis men, took no note of their morals ; wherein, I think, lay one of the secrets of his amazing hold upon his soldiers. In the spacious hall of the adobe house that was his headquarters we were gathered on the night be-fore the battle of Carabobo. Be-sides Bolivar there was the wlRe and suave Marino, chief of staff; Crdenta, whom the general called Rafael, a faithful follower of Boli-var, who, for many years after the death of the Liberator, served his country with brilliance and distinc-tion; Paez, chief of the llaneros, Plaza, Cedeno, Colonel Pint, all smiles because of his questionably won decoration; Colonel Mackin-tosh, Colonel Ferrier, who, on the morrow, was destined to And the fatal bullet; Captain Mlnchln, an-other Briton who fell upon the field of Carabobo; Moore and Lindsay, English medicos ; Captain Scott Monahan, the swarthy Manuel, Francisco and others names to con-jure with in Venezuela. Santlnl, the soldier, had not survived the storm that wrecked the Santa a. Under the surface of laughter and badinage lay the tension of overwrought nerves, for we felt the portent of the morrow's battle. Men were called upon for speeches or toasts. Colonel Plnl, whose bloodshot eyes showed the effect of the vast amount of wine that he had consumed, found un-steady feet and, swaying beyond the bounds of safe equilibrium, re-lated the fragment of an amour, the questionable wit of which might have lifted laughter only out of wine-bemuse-d minds. Manuel gave an account of my unsuccessful attempt In New Orleans to Imitate San Isldro, and my equally unsuc-cessful effort to vanquish four men, which drew the attention of the gathered officers In my direc-tion. I had never made a speech, nor offered a toast, but when Bolivar, encouraging eyes upon me, said, "Should we not get the voice of the United States, a great nation after which we hope to pattern our own?" I came slowly to my feet CHAPTER VIII Continued , ... g--' Pini brought the pistol to bear upon me. "Do you speak thus to me, your colonel, your commanding officer?" ' "Under similar conditions, my colonel, I would speak so to Boli-var himself, hud he fallen so low; thing 1 cannot imagine, for, of all ,rtur officers, I think Colonel Pini Is the only man Who might have planned an act so vlle.n' Madness? Aye, a veritable mad-ness; yet his eyes had offered in-sult to the Senorlta, and I wor-shiped her. "Ah, Loren," she cried, fenr in her voice and .love, . I think, as well. "How. vast a blunder. Can you not see-?- " , Pini laughed. "'Loren'? Weill" His voice was icy, menacing. "Ah, Duice mla," "I gasped, "I cannot think; I love thee!" "Very pretty," said Pini. He of-fered a sour smile. - "I have waited, for such a time as this." He thought a moment. "It Is the Se-norlta Lamartlna no? Then she shall see bow we deal with insub-ordination, a grievous crime. At such a time- I may be judge and Jury and executioner, for it is my right." "The pistol is not made, my col-onel," I said, "that mayklll me and ,(f I am given so much as half a minute " "No," said Duke, nol" She came forwaiji, arms outstretched, toward the man Who waited, wea-pon pointing1 at "my heart "Any-thing, Colonal Pini, but" I thrust her aside. "No I" I cried, leaping toward him as, the gun roared, filling Ifie' room with thun-der. Flame traversed my arm and sent the red hot pain coursing through my body. My right arm fell, useless, and the fingers of my left hand found his throat and held. ; No tnntter what befell I knew that only death awaited me, for this attack upon a superior officer, regardless of the circumstances or the provocation, could mean but one thing: a court and a decree of death. So with the weight of my body, and the strength of my legs, I held hlra against the wall while my fingers did their work. I even laughed, a shrill maniacal outburst, and I talked: "Do you see, Dulce, my own, how a craven dies?" "No, Loren, no; It is murder! If you love me, dear heart you will not do It!" "But he offered Insult to thee . . . shall 1 not kill him for that, does he not deserve ?" "Listen, Loren, !o you not hear it?" - Now there came to us the clear high notes of a bugle, a penetrat-ing, electric summons. I guess I and have always been, first a soldier, for that call to arms cleansed my mind of hatred and found a soldier's ready acquies-cence in my heart Colonel Pini, freed at last stag-gered to the table and braced his swaying body with his hands. "You will pay for this, Senor," he rasped through a tortured throat Wild yells followed the call of the bugle, and intermittent thud-ding of guns, then an orderly fusil-lade. I knew that the Spaniards, having reformed behind us to cut us off, were Investing the city. "I expect to pay, colonel, and you will doubtless pay when Bolivar hears how you have thrown away the fruits of a dettrly bought vic-tory." , ... "After this skirmish," he said, moving unsteadily toward the wreckage of the doorway, "there will be a court" "I shall be ready, my colonel!" "Ah, Loren, that you should have found me thus!" "I am thankful that I' was able to find you at all."' to my knees and pressed my lips against a slim hand, for my love for her has been the sort of worship that mortals offer up to saints. "Am I not forgiven, Senorlta, that I was so blind as not to see through your masquerade?" She put her hand upon my head. "It is light again your hair. I am glad, Loren." The tumult of . conflict ap-- 1 prooched, and I knew the force of Colonel Pini, drunk with a false victory and too much wine, and in-sufficiently outfitted with guns and jtnrmunitlon, were beaten, and mov-t- t back. "Do they lose your men?" I nodded. ; "I am sorry; Spain' does not elong in Venezuela. I. have seen. You must go, you must save your-self. Your life" "Do you love me, Dulce mla?" Now she came to her knees be-side me. "Ah, Loren, mlo, there Is nothing in my life but love for thWif" "Then you forgive?" "Aye, dear heart I Kiss me, kiss me and hold me, hold me close, ' then . . . Loren, you are wounded, there is blood. Ah, God preserve thee!" "My arm only, but I can hold thee well with one." I laughed in an excess of happiness. So I kissed the shining hair, the teor-dlmn- eyes, and. the tender lips, and I held her close to my heart again, for I knfew that this ' would be the end. Defeat or vie-- i tory for the forces of Bolivar, my fate as sealed. - "Polito," I said, "lies wounded, i but not seriously, In an adobe I 1 1 house less than two hundred met-ers south from here." Now she clung to me, face up-raised in pleading. "Is there blame In thy heart, Loren, that. Polito should be fighting for the Span-ish?" "A soldier may not turn his back upon his country, my sweet; Polito owes his service to his king." "Bless thee, my own , , . Adlos I" CHAPTER IX , The Spirit of ths Dead OF THK six hundred and fifty men who had gone so blithely to the Investment of the town of Maracay, scarce four hundred re-mained; starvelings trapped In a strip of Jungle that lies between the Valencia range and the sea; blocked on the north by the sea It-self, on the south by an army pa-trolling the road that followed the crest of the range, and menaced In the rear by an ever approaching body of and well-fe- d Spanish troops. Adolfo de Fuentes himself led them, and it must have afforded him a deal of Joy. "If we had Bolivar" Monahan ventured. Doctor Lindsay laughed. "Does our Irish Venezuelan patriot who comes from KUlarney, and who, therefore, must believe in fairies, imagine that General Bolivar might free us from this impasse?" "Sure," said the Irishman; "at a word from Simon Bolivar men will spring, like spirits out of the earth. But we haven't the spirit of Bolivar with us now; In-stead, we have a spineless jellyfish who sits and broods over his blun-ders, knowing that we face starva-tion or capture by the Puerto Ca-bel-garrison when the army be-hind us shall have pushed us west-ward to the mouth of this funnel of Jungle thnt holds us helpless." Ten days before this a vastly su-perior force had pushed us out of Maracay. Fighting every foot of the way we had been beaten back, ever back. Eastward and north-ward we had gone, contending des-perately, hopelessly, yet .never giv-ing up; each night finding us far-ther Into the Spanish area, weaker, less able to endure, with a morale that gave way with the slow pas-sage of time. Between Colonal Pini and myself an armed truce existed. Whether, by some miraculous turn of good fortune, we won free, or whether the malevolent Jungle or the Span-lard- s claimed us, the result to me would be the same; for the friend-ship of a few trusted aides of Boli-var might never save me In a court because I was guilty and could not offer a defense. Yet no apprehension of what Pini might do to me could prevail against my happiness, because I bad seen the Senorlta again, had caught the tender cadences of her voice, had won forgiveness. Ag the days went by the shoul-ders of our soldiers drooped, the light went out of their eyes, and the flesh went off their bodies, for food we had almost none; and the desperate heat of the overwhelm-ing Jungle sickened them, and the gloom and silence of this dread desolation entered their souls, yet that vital spark still burned with-in them. - . We came, one day,' to a great rent In the close-packe- d trees and the Interlacing vines of our forest prison. It was such a path as some monster dragon of the deep, emerg-ing from the sea, might have made in its passage through the Jun-gle; yet we knew that no dragon of the deep existed, knew that no animal might have laid these mighty trees flat and pushed others out of Its path. I recalled the day of the storm, and the wreck of the Santa a, and the dark bulk that had passed In the gloom as I fought for my life with the waves. I remembered that the tremen-dous thrust of the wind had lifted the ocean Into the maze of woods, and had deposited me In,. a tree. The Santa Lucrecia, then, . had freed herself from the clutches of the reef and, riding the elevated waters of the tidal wave, had driv-en over the flat floor of the Jungle which lay only a few feet above ' the level of the sea and hnd found at last a grave in 'the forest whence it had come. And the Santa Lucrecia, I remembered, had a cargo of arms and ammunition and food I "Colonel Pini," said 1, in the long silence that had held us, "may not this small army of ours given food and arms and powder and ball win through the lines of Spain? If I fill them with food, and put weapons and ammunition Into their bands?" "Are you mad?" he cried. "If I do these things, my colonel, may I ask that this court will be forgot that my wounded arm and the broken door at Maracay and the Senorlta?" "Lindsay and Captain Monahan may witness," said Pini, and he smiled, "my promise to forget Maracay if yon obtain the manna for these starving soldiers." "I will tell you, then, my colo-nel, that this path marks the first and last land passage of the Santa Lucrecia, and If we only follow It we will come upon a store sufficient for an army." " - ,. . For three days we ate and rested and caroused, unmindful of the forces of Spain, for we could have "Lindsay and Captain Monahan May Witness," Said Pini, and He Smrled. at lost, of enetoy interference, we skirted the lake and bent our steps toward the town of Tlnaqulllo, near which, we knew, would lie the lines of Bolivar, and where, before the sun had set, we fell, ex-hausted but happy, into the arms of our own. Verily the spirit of the dead had armed the living 1 Storm-cloud- s were gathering in the south and "east and thunder rumbled along the crest ' of the Carabobo hills while we stood at attention, waiting for General Boli-var to pin upon the Jacket of Colo-nel Pini the coveted Order of Lib-erators. He complimented the col-onel upon the courage of himself and his men in breaking through the Spanish Unes and taking the town of Maracay, and he offered mild apologies that Paez and Plaza had failed "to help him hold It. Francisco touehed my elbow. "Do not your fingers ache, Garde, do not those capable hands of yours itch to take hold of. Pint's throat?" "Why should they." said I, for I knew, that Monahan had talked; "did not PInl give me my life?" "For the Order of Liberators," he said, smiling, "a- - cherished decora-tion . . . and to think that a man like Plnl should, hare got It." "As far as I am concerned, FrancIsco,"our colonel may have it; surely it wiil gie him little" joy." Now I remembered the look in Plni's eyes when they tiad rested on the Senorita, and a flame of rage scorched me. I wondered then If I would not yet have to deal with ' the .colonel, and I hoped In my heart that 1 would. "Has there beeh any news of the Senorita, or of Polito?" Francisco's finger, I knew, was upon the pulse of Venezuela. "None, except that Adolfo Is now in command of the Valencia gar-riso-find we may assume that the Senorlta and her brother are there also." ;.. ;.. "It is good news, my friend, for Valencia is scarce twenty miles from here." "With only a Spanish army of seven or eight thousand soldiers barring our wo.y. A simple thing Indeed," he Jeered, "for La Torre and Morales, wlth. all the avalloble forces of Spain, await us on the plains of Carabobo." v "Then We meet them there,vFran-clsco?- " ."Aye." He thought a moment "I think La Torre made a mistake when he did not dispute our pas-sage at Buena Vista ; he lost an ad-vantage there. I I. .cannot help ttelieving; Garde, that at Carabo-bo tomorrow, we stand or fall. The general stakes all on this last my mind a blank, and tremors shaking me. Leaning against the table for support, I stared vacantly at' the half-fille- d wine glass In my right handt and Plnl, noting my embarrassment, laughed harshly. "A speech he cried gaily, "or If the Americano's mind refuses to function, a toast. ... A toast to the fenorita to the lovely Lamar-tlna I" A silence fell upon us a grim foreboding silence for many of these men- - knew of my mad wor-ship of the Senorlta. The look that I bent upon Plnl hnd nothing of friendship In It; it was more like a challenge. . That he was drunk I knew, and that her name upon his lips gained nothing for a lady was a thing of equal certainty to me, - Looking across the narrow table Into the leering eyes of my tor-mentor, I felt the surge of an over-whelming fury, and before I had taken time to consider my act, or the consequences of it, I had cast I the contents of my wine gloss Into his face. Then, while Pini splut-tered in anger, I turned to Boli-var. ' ... "That, my general, Is the voice of the United States, where men are wont to look with reverence npon a woman. The amours of Colonel Plnl" Pint came, to his feet his face flaming eyes gleaming. "1 will have his life for that, I'll run him through, I'll drive a sword!" I bowed, while Bolivar the fur-rows In his high forehead deepen-ing and his heavy eyebrows draw, ing together in a portentous frown considered us. "1 think," said Francisco coldly, "that Colonel Plnl forgets the wounded arm of Major Garde; it has not yet healed, and the major, therefore, would be at a serious disadvantage." "I haven't forgot It, and the gen-eral shall know. General Bolivar shall hear how he received that I stood aghast, for Plnl, In the presence of witnesses, had given me his promise that nothing of that unfortunate affair of Maracay should reach the ears of the Lib-erator. Was he mad, could he hope to gain anything by thus breaking his word; would Bolivar forgive him for that vital hour of drunken-ness that had cost us Maracay? I did not think so, for the Liberator was too good a soldier to overlook so flagrant a blunder. I waited. "If there Is anything," said Boli-var In a voice of cold menace, "which should have been told to me that either of you have re-frained from telling" "Tell him," Pini tried, "tell your general about your arm; explain to him how you were wounded." TO BB CONTINUED, Boston Man Emphatic in Defense of Indians Based on years of life in the Far West among the Indians and cow-boy- Cyrus Da 111 n, a Boston sculptor, who has made si reputation for his Indian studies, recently delivered an address in which he scored the cow-boys and entered a plea of defense for the Indian. According to the speaker, the Indian has never been treated fairly by the whites of this country. If they had been, he says, there would never have been the con-flicts which have taken place and which are blots on the white race. Mr. Dallln described early buffalo game laws, the mall delivery system among wagon trains and many other incidents of Interest about the early pioneer days. Ue cited the killing off of the buffaloes as the greatest blow to the Indian, for "with the death of every buffalo was sealed the death of the Indian," and he said the red man was not a "bloodthirsty sav-age," but "a gentleman with dignity and majesty of bearing who prac-ticed I! STAGE COACH I TALES By E. C. TAYLOR Henry Clay Rides to a Fall HENRY CLAY, the "Idol of the. to whose efforts in con-gress more than those of any other man in American public life the building of the great National road was due, rode to a fall on the road he had fathered. Clay often traveled over the great highway, as he made frequent trips from the nation's capital to bis home in Kentucky each year, and was known and liked by every stage coach driver along the route. One day the brilliant political leader was traveling back home to Kentucky. The Streets of Union-tow- n, Pa., In those days were not the paved thoroughfares of today. They were muddy morasses In wet weather, and rocky roads In dry. The coach In which Clay was rid-ing struck a large boulder of lime-stone as it was leaving Unlontown, and overturned, throwing Clay Into the street He was picked up un-hurt and after viewing the smashup, remarked : "This is mixing the Clay of Ken-tucky with the limestone of Penn-sylvania." Sam Sibley, the driver, received broken nose, and the party re-turned to the McClelland house, wjilch it had just left, unt'l a new coach and driver were procured. The "Pike Boys," as the lordly drivers on the National road were called, were all friends of Clay, al-though they did not all agree with him politically. One driver was ac-cused of deliberately riding down a pro-Cla- y procession during the Clay-Pol- k Presidential contest The "Pike Boys" were the artls-tocrac- y of the day. Lads all over the nation looked upon them as the boys of today look up to Lindbergh and other heroes of the air. It was Avurv hnv'a AmhlHnn tft ha tha rirlv. er of mall and fast passenger coaches. There probably were more street corner arguments along the great highway In those days over the style of various heroes' driving and their prowess as lords of the road than there were over politics. The drivers were as noted for their quick wit and large acquaint-ance with men of affairs as for their dextrous handling of two bands full of reins. Their social and business posi-tion wag the envy of all boyhood, and it was the ambition of the na-tion's youths to emulate them. Tbey were" worshiped as heroes. Among the best known drivers of the day, nearly all of whom Clay knew by their nicknames, were John Bunting, Jim Reynolds, Billy Armor. "Red" Bunting, nearly sev-en feet tall, was the best known In the East David Cordon and James Bun were the outstanding heroes of the western section of the stage lines. These drivers were proud of their horses, and took the best of care of them. The passage of a President was a triumphal procession along the National road. The best drivers and the best horses were assigned to them. The coaches were elaborate af-fairs, many .of them costing several thousand dollars. They were gaily painted, highly polished, and lined with silk upholstery. They had arm rests, and comfortable seats. The earliest coaches on the Na-tional road were the Troy coaches. They were built at Cumberland, Md., and carried 18 passengers. These were followed by the more elaborate Concord coaches, that were used universally by the stage lines all over the United States. Relays of horses were waiting for the coaches every ten or twelve miles, and these were changed while" the coaches were still rock-ing after an abrupt halt. Speed was the watchword, and not a uiin-- ' ute was lost on a trip. The drivers prided themselves on maintaining their schedule in all kinds of weather. Those who lived along the .Na-tional road when they were children still eagerly recall the thrilling Bight of a train of coaches, some-times as many as 14 In a single line, rushing Into a relay station, with the drivers blowing their horns, quickly changing horses, and speeding off again. . It was romance to them. "' , ... .. , (CSi. 1931. WMtern Newspaper Union.) Trea Rings to Fix Data of Remote Civilization Reports of success have been made from the National Geographic society's expedition into the South-west, which is endeavoring to fix the date definitely of a remote civiliza-tion which undoubtedly existed. This Is being done by a study of the tree rings as found in some timbers of , the ancient structures.' This work will enable the scientists to date the period when the complex and highly ' developed civilization of Chaco Can-yon produced the Beautiful Village (Pueblo Bonlto), a communal dwell-ing of some 2,500 people, centuries before the white man set foot on American soli. The mementos of a civilisation which rivaled those of the ancient Old world culture, of which the Bonltans apparently knew nothing, have already been brought to Washington from year to year. But always there was the perplexing question, "How old are they?" By minute study and comparisons of the rings of the timbers uncovered and old trees and stumps of the vicinity, It is hoped to arrive at a very accu-rate date, j Jewelers in Constant ", Warfare on the Crook Other lines of business which suf-fer from holdups and sneak thievery might find it profitable to study the methods by which 4,500 jewelry con-cerns, banded together in the Jewel-ers' Security Alliance of the United States, are making the operations of jewelry crooks steadily more danger-ous and less profitable. The crooks have many tricks. For example, there Is the fruit eater. If the Jeweler does not watch him care-fully, he will press a stone or ring Into an npple core or a squeezed orange and throw the fruit into the street for bis accomplice to pick up. The gum chewer substitutes a false stone for a real one and sticks the latter, by means of gum, under the edge of the counter until he gets a chance to remove it without being discovered. The umbrella carrier drops valuable articles into the um-brella and so on. The alliance keeps its members In-formed about these devices, and methods for circumventing them. As a result the value of Jewelry stolen from members during 1930 was kept down to about $111,0007" which is surely a remarkable showing. Just recently the Jewelry crooks have turned kidnaper. They go early In the morning to the home of a Jew-eler, stick a gun in his ribs, force him to their car and take him to his store, where he is made to open" the safe and give up whatever articles the robbers want. This trick is new, but the alliance has already devel-oped a most Ingenious way to meet it The crooks are smart, but the al-liance experts appear to be Just a shade smarter, Frank A. Fall, In the Outlook and Independent Extremal in Arizona Almost any sort of weather may be found within Arizona. Several times In recent months both the high and low record marks for the United States were In Arizona. Frequently the maximum temperature in south-ern Arizona exceeds 100, while the minimum of the northern mountain regions Is in the twenties. At the Waterfall ' , "You must not fish here. It la my water." V . ": ,vV "Is it your water up above?" - " ; "No." vs v",.-'.-:'.'';:?:- " f "Then I will wait here until the ! water from above arrives here." " Stockholm Vart Hem. What It Meana Vamping VI Holding a handker- - chief to your nose like that means ' you are In love. Victim Love nuddlngl I'd meads , I've got a code Id by head. Path- - ,' finder Magazine. ? v Mother's Darlings , George, aged four, and Ernest, aged five, were spending their pre-cious five minutes with mummy be--1 fore going to bed. "I does love you," stghed Ernest contentedly. "Why do you love me, darling?" asked mother. " 'Cos we like your face." "But it's not much of a face, said mother. This was a bit of a poser. ; "But we've got used to it" said George, after much thought Lon don Tit-Bit- s. v : f .... Knew Hi Rights Warden See here, you've beet sentenced to hard tabor and you'ri doing hardly any work at alL Thli won't do. Prisoner (calmly) Won't Itf Well, anyway, yer can't fire ma-Lon- don Answers. |