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Show j WHO'S NEWS THIS WEEK By LEMUEL F. PARTON (Consolidated Features WNU Service.! NEW YORK. When young "Red" Phillips played guard on the University of Oklahoma football team, in 1915, he was scaled down to a mere 260 Game of Politics pounds, but Is Another Story in spite of For Football Star through the line like a high-powered snowshovel. Sometimes he wouldn't stop when the whistle blew and they had a hard time to keep him inside the state lines. Today, as Gov. Leon C. Phillips of Oklahoma, Okla-homa, he weighs in at 290 and is even more abandoned in his rootin' tootin' guard play. He orders out the National Guard to repulse the invasion of the federals, trying to build a $20,000,000 dam on the Grand river in his state. This, one of his many scrimmages, scrim-mages, is part of his waxing battle for state rights against what he considers con-siders the illegal encroachment of the federal government. He is an apostate New Dealer, having defeated de-feated the similarly belligerent "Alfalfa "Al-falfa Bill" Murray on the issue of New Deal adherence in the 1938 Democratic primary. Now he has switched teams. With a big cigar protruding from his lips at a cocky angle, biting it to shreds when he gets steamed up, he says the New Deal is a social service serv-ice outfit, and social workers are "sorority sisters." Like the "Fiery and Snuffy" of the Oklahoma cowboy cow-boy song, he's "rarin' to go and he sends word to the war department that he won't let any invader set foot on Oklahoma soil." I He started to be a preacher, but I switched to the law. Born 50 years j ago in Grant county, Missouri, along i the covered wagon trail, he was ; taken to Oklahoma at the age of I two and grew up in the Cheyenne and Arapaho Indian country. He attended Epworth univerity one year, studying, presumably militant, mili-tant, Christianity, and then entered the law school of the University of Oklahoma. His fame as "Red" Phillips, the bone-crushing, man-eating man-eating football player, gave him a fast running start in politics, and he soon landed in the state legislature. He made his campaign for the gov- ' ernorship on an economy platform, sweeping the state. The citizens 1 still know him as "Red," and the ' "Yea Red!" yell of his college days serves for his political campaigns. yilEN I knew Death Valley Scotty and his dog "Goldbug," around Goldfield, Rhyolite and Windy Gap, there was a story that j the dog had ! All Scotty s Cash made a great Is'Loanea" to Him luss over a By Chicago Man stra"ger at Casey's hotel, and a theory that this stranger must have been Scotty's mysterious backer. back-er. The visitor, however, was just passing through and was never identified, and Scotty, even in moments mo-ments of abandon in Tex Rickard's place, continued to insist that he had a "chimney," or "blow-out" of gold nuggets, samples of which he carried in his overalls pocket. It was not until years later that the man who financed the Death Valley Scotty saga, just for his own amusement amuse-ment it would seem, was A. M. Johnson, the head of a big insurance insur-ance firm in Chicago. As Scotty and his backer round jout 40 years of a beautiful friendship, friend-ship, Scotty informs the federal tax collectors that he has $100,000 in gold certificates buried somewhere in the Panamint mountains, and that the source of his mysterious wealth has unfailingly been Mr. , Johnson. From the same source j-ame the $3,000,000 Spanish castle : which Scotty built in the heart of !r)eath valley several years ago, according ac-cording to his previous admissions. The unique partnership opened j'vith a $2,500 grubstake. He not I only wrote a check, but followed Scotty to Death valley. The first mine didn't pan out, but Mr. Johnson John-son was having fun. They fought bandits, got clubby with the Piute Indians and rooted around in old prospect holes. Thereafter came Scotty's famous train ride and the deepening mystery of his treasure cache. They kept their secret until along about 1930. The pooch, "Gold-bug" "Gold-bug" and Scotty's extraordinarily intelligent white mule both died of old age. But the original partnership partner-ship still goes on. Mr. Johnson, now 63 years old is cut somewhat on the same lines as Henry Ford, but with an Achilles' Heel of Romance. He was born and grew up in a small town in Ohio, went to Cornel university, did a jolt of railroading in Arkansas and engaged in mining lead and .inc near Jopiin, Mo. In Chicago 1e augmented an inherited 'fortune n the insurance business. He belongs be-longs to a string of good clubs in Chicago, is a sagacious and conservative con-servative citizen, and. from all accounts, ac-counts, has bankrolled Scotty just Tor the fun of it |