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Show THURSDAY, DECEMBER THE 16. 1943 TIMES-NEWS- NEPIII. UTAH , PAGE SEVEN Kathleen Norris Crickets Are Singin; 'Canaries' of Chinese avs: fvSf V H AFLO LD CHAN N I N G WI RJE V CHAPTER I Even those names that meant so much have vanished now, so that you will look in vain lor Ox Bow or Dripping Spring or the valley of the Little Comanche on any recent map. And it is hard to believe that this land, where flashing beacons now guide the roaring course of planes by night, and by day motorcars dart effortlessly across its endless miles, was then but a wild and rolling prairie of buffalo grass, and a journey of any length had no certain ending, and all of a restless nation seemed to be following the sun in a mad race set off by the cry, "Go West, young man, go West!" not sixty years ago. This was a time of new and un- believable happenings. Pullman's Golden Palace cars were running clear to the Pacific, with their red velvet curtained windows, their gas lamps that made the coaches as brilliant as a ladies' drawing room and their sleeping compartments in which many women still refused to undress when going to bed at night. Three thousand Negroes were marching afoot from Alabama, with their women and children and dogs, to claim the forty acres of land and the span of mules which the state of Kansas promised. Boxcar emigrant trains rolled out of the East one upon another, spewing settlers along the way, and the d Pittsburg wagons lumbered West behind their ox teams, to meet not a barren prairie but the red swarms of Texas longhorns coming up from the South. For this was a time when the man in the saddle was king of the plains and prairie; all others were beneath him, to be swept aside by the relentless march of his trail herds. Ten million Texas longhorns that had run wild since the Rebellion were finding a market in the shipping towns of the new railroads; a thousand cattle ranches were being made in the new lands of Montana and Wyoming, where cattle had never been before. Up that trail, twelve hundred miles long, unchecked by storm or drouth, by roving bands of Comanches or the The barbed wire of the great flood poured northward, a million head in a single year. This was a time of a young man's opportunity. Whatever a man was going to be depended only upon himhalf-starve- d high-toppe- hoe-me- hoe-me- ready for bed. He had turned into the dark toward his unrolled blankets when something sailed past him and fell with a soft thud. He stooped and pushed the ends of cottonwood together and crouched there, waiting. It was not until the little flame leaped up, shedding a wide circle of light, that a figure stepped from the shadows. Even then he didn't move. He sat wholly still, watching Willy Nickle, feeling as he always did that this was a ghost shape from out of a far-opast. He came forward silently on deerskin moccasins with high tops laced halfway to his knees, a small, thin, fragile-lookinman, ageless. Long chestnut hair brushed his shoulders, but his cheeks and chin were shaved clean. His face was very dark, yet oddly smooth and as gentle as a child's except for the sharp, quick brightness of its small gray eyes. "How are you, Willy?" Lew said and got no answer. His only greeting was a nod as the old man came from the shadows with an ancient needle gun cuddled like a baby across his thin chest. Always it was not until three deep puffs of kinnikinnick hit old Willy's brain with their terrific force that talk seemed jolted out of him. Even then it was veiled talk of his own strange kind. You never learned anything from Willy Nickle by bluntly asking questions. He took his three puffs and lifted his head and looked sharply all around him. "Well!" he said suddenly. "It has been some. I do say!" His squinted gray eyes came back. Lew nodded. "A year now come calf time," he said. "A year in ff g It'-- 1 self. rim-roc- guarded a narrow entrance down from the vast empty reaches of the Staked Plain. Lew Burnet was cooking supper over a cautious blaze. He had laid his cottonwood twigs together at the Indian fashion, spreading ends, them outward like the spokes of a wheel. That way they burned with no smoke and a small flame, but made an intense point of heat beneath his pot of coffee. The coffee boiled and he pushed the pot back. A comb of antelope ribs, already braised, stood propped against a rock. A pile of stick bread lay at his knee. He tore the antelope ribs apart and fell to eating with the hunger of a man who'd had nothing beaver this old coon never did cotton to. Clay Manning. And that Steve young 'un of Tom Arnold's, was it him night ridin' up Crazy Woman Creek not two hours after the bank was robbed? Him and four strangers here? Seems like I was camped on Crazy Woman then." Lew stared at him. "The bank in Ox Bow?" Willy nodded. "But was a man to hunt some trouble now he'd see why d so many Cross T horses go up Crazy Woman. That would be at nighttime, early." "Tonight?" "No, already made it. Was some gunshot late this afternoon which must have hurried 'em. If it was this nigger tomorrow going down the valley he'd keep to the east side. That's talk, though. Maybe some sort wouldn't listen." "Maybe he wouldn't," Lew agreed and smiled. "Maybe he'd like to know." "He'll find tracks then," Willy offered. "They're plain enough. But was it me I'd have old Silverbell here ready." He stroked the slender barrel of his needle gun. Through a little silent time, while Willy Nickle's head drooped and he seemed to doze. Lew sorted out the old man's information. He felt a grimly troubled meaning in that none of these things had been in Tom Arnold's letter. The bank in Ox Bow belonged to Arnold; its robbery, he knew, could be pretty bad. What puzzled him, wholly unexplainable, was this business of loose horses being run up Crazy Woman to the Staked Plain. If it was rustling, Arnold or his foreman. Clay Manning, should be more on watch than that. The trail drive would need every saddle animal the Cross T had. And Steve . . . "Willy," he asked, "you're sure it was Steve riding that night of the robbery?" Old Willy opened one eye. "Certain," he said and closed it. There was no answer to that. Things happen in a year. Even twelve months ago. Lew remembered, Steve's young rebellion had turned into violent ways. He was coming back, perhaps, just in time. For he and Steve had grown up together in a close companionship, more confiding than between father and son. Everything Tom Arnold had built here in Texas was planned around his boy. Still there was that antagonism between nature them, a reckless, fighting the strict, unsparing one ol the man. Inevitably Steve brought up his sister Joy. Lew bent forward and knocked his pipe out against bis boot toe. Behind all his thinking tonight was one question. He asked it now. "Willy, when did Tom's girl marry Clay Manning?" Willy's head lifted. His gray eyes "Never did. squinted brightly. There's been none of that on the Cross T. Why not, this child couldn't say. But there's somebody could make a better man for her. Well, he could!" "No," Lew said. "It's the sleek bucks they run to, Willy. You know since dawn. , His was a young face, with sober strength in its long lines, but strangely marked from the tram pling hoofs of an outlaw horse years ago. There was left now only curved crease from his right cheekbone to his chin and a white cres cent close to the hairline of his fore head. Yet those first years when the wounds were raw and ugly had left another mark. He had never forgotten how the girls turned from him, shocked, and he had understood. sensitive nature protects itself in deeply hidden ways, and this early accident had made Lew Burnet, more than he realized, a restless and lonely man. His work had all been man's work, hard and danger; at twenty-fiv- e ous and he had bossed three great herds of longhorns up the trail from Texas to Dodge and Ogallala. Even the new ranch he had established in Wyoming this past winter had risen in his vision as a place only for himA single-handed- self. There had been too little informaletter. He in Tom Arnold' wanted more, even more, perhaps, than Arnold could give. A month ago he had mailed a letter of his own south from Wyoming, and late this afternoon, before coming down off the rimrock, he had stopped long enough to kindle a pillar of white smoke Into the still air. He had whipped his rawhide coat across It twice, breaking It If old Willy Nirkle had received the letter and had stayed anywhere within twenty miles of the Little Comanche he would see that signal and know this meeting place. r But the passed and the night'a hushed silence remained unbroken. By the simple prwess of pulling off his coat and boots he was tion half-hou- "The bank Wyoming and they do say things have happened on the Little Comanche since I've been gone." "So I guess." said Willy. "Thli nigger wouldn't know." He knew all right. There were no longer beaver to trap in the great South Park of Colorado, nor shaggy herds of buffalo to follow north to the headwaters of the Yellowstone, and the Mexican girls of Taos and Santa Fe could not lure old Willy any more. Lew waited, smoking and feeling the kinnikinnick already start to spin his head. It often seemed a strange thing that he had been picked out for one of Willy Nickle'a few friends. But it was so, a queer, loyal, unspoken friendship, which he knew he was going to need now more than ever. "Wyoming," Willy mused across the fire. "No place for a man now, but didn't me and Bill Evans find beaver a heap there that winter? I can tell you! A pretty smart lot of boys was camped on the Sweetwater and the way whisky flowed that time was some." "Still a good place, Wyoming," Lew said and then brought Willy's wandering mind back to the Little Comanche. "They do tell me that Tom Arnold is moving his Cross T up there. Taking four thousand longhorns up the trail this month, all the way to the north. And I've a letter to trail boss for him. That's the proposition. But there's Clay Manning, Tom's foreman now, who's been north once or twice himself and could lead this herd maybe. Then what am I here for? I don't know. Things happen in a country when a man's been gone a year." "Well, they do!" said Willy. He smoked thoughtfully for a moment, his thin cheeks making deep holThen he said, "That's one lows. HIUK5S OR KUlUSi UAM VIUOW ?V " WHIT! v jK '!) Buy War Savings Bonds WORLD'S LARGEST SELLER AT l(h loose-herde- g that." Lew stared at him. in Ox Bow?" Featured fgHg high-strun- In the upper valley of the Little Comanche that night only one camp-fir- e pierced the blackness, a small k one, glowing faintly where high WNU DV tim snnt ivnourviK vomrv it Z tUI ?. Imagine crickets for pets. That stranee custom has persisted in China for centuries. For more than 1,000 years, both rich and poor have kept crickets in their home for their "singing" qualities. In fact, crickets are to the Chinese what canaries are to bird lovers of this country. The crickets are kept in hol low gourds into which holes have been cut to allow air to enter. The pourd cages of the wealthy have tops of ivory or other valuable materials and are handsomely painted. These Arc Smart Women BeU Syndicate. FOR PARTIES DftD im I V nriE In a moment when the old mar stood up to go he knew there wai no use offering a bed here. Willy always slept alone. It might be ten miles from Dripping Spring or only off a hundred yards; he wouldn't know. Standing with the ancient needl gun cuddled again across his chest, Willy took that quick glance all around him into the shadows. He stepped back. "Raise your smoke," he said, "if you've a mind." That was his promise and Lew understood. He'd not stray far from the Little Comanche for a while. Lew broke camp In the dark next morning, saddled while his coffee boiled, and in the cold sharp gray ol daylight he was traveling south. This was the end of a month-lontrail. Even the tall black beneath him stepped out with a home-corin it knowledge, and the red mul with its white tarpaulin pack trotted behind, needing no leash. The Little Comanche had changed even more, he saw. In bis absence of a year. Once a man could rid down this valley through a waving sea of bluestem grass knee-dee- p on a horse. But Tom Arnold, like every cattleman In Texas now, had stocked his range beyond Its limit in this mad race to supply the northern demand. The bluestcm had vanished, never to grow again. There was left only the short curly buffalc nature's last stand even grass that showing great dusty patches. The Little Comanche could be wholly worthless in another five years. At least, he thought, he had learned that lesson, and his own land in Wyoming came Into the drift, ing gaze of his eyes. That wss virgin now as this once had been, a sweet-gras- s country, ten thousand acres he had got control of by plastering his homestead entries ovet every water hole and spring. The opportunity was there for a big ranch, as bis: as Arnold's Cross T. g (TO BE CONTTNUKD. " ? i." 5? Jt. , i.. .'M' ... , i S. 5 i it Weed Tire Chains are equipment for "Everyone was amused and amiable, and nobody seemed to feel that the formality or dignity of the dinner had been jeopardized." By KATHLEEN NORRIS jeeps, and other military vehicles. trucks PATRIOTS OF THE than one hundred HOME FRONT twenty men and Throughout America patriotic citizens are making perworking in a sinsonal sacrifices, large and of a Washinggle department small, to help end the war mnd ton office, have voluntarily re make things easier for those to of all nounced ideas going actually fighting it. Kathleen home for Christmas. They Norris presents a typical cross are leaving the Pullman cars section of these t for the servicemen. One of soldiers: W ashin gton office these young women has an ofgirls sacrifice trips home over the holidays so that servicefer of a free trip to California, men may ride the trains; a where are her mother, father and small son. But she won't woman in Ohio moves her into tlie first floor of add to traffic congestion, and family three-storhome, so as to their perhaps prevent some boy save fuel; and in South DakoNot leave. from his last home ta a hotel hostess urges guests this Christmas. to clean their plates so as to Another girl lives in Salt save food. Lake City when she is at home ; two brothers, both in uniform, stew, beans, I make at least twice will be there this year. But too much for the current meal. This MORE lililNINMI i -St, f Repair old tire chains now or get new Weeds before you get stuck in tnowormud, or skid Vt ? I jLJ ilWfllSl U airrr; into a smash-up- . home-fron- y 1 - . 1 v. y h - . If - 1 Rosemary won't. She will eat her Christmas dinner in Washington, saves work and heat. And isn't it a good feeling, coming home tired D. C. from Red Cross work, to be able to The spirit that inspires these exthink. There are the beans, and the iles, tired to death of the rush and applesauce, and the cold biscuits strain of living at the capital, hungry to toast, and all I need stop for is for home quiet and home love, prom- lettuce." I like to have every mea: ises well for a better world after the lap over the next, or the next but war. one. Mary Bailey of Hot Springs, S. D., "Suppers are simple. We like has another good idea for wartime cornmeal mush with raisins and top economy; an idea that I wish every milk. We like milk toast, waffles woman who reads this would pass jelly pancakes, rice, macaroni, deep along to clubs and social organiza fruit pies. We always start with tions everywhere. soup, and if the family dimly recog "This is quite a place for con- nizes in the soup the beans, the spin ventions," says Mary's letter; "and ach, the cauliflower, the boiled onas a hotel hostess I have to handle ions, the crust of French bread, the large groups and get ready for big chicken bones and the duck gravy banquets. Lately I have been work- at least the family never complains ing on the cafeteria system when and the good hot thick soup will these affairs take place. Our big continue to be our first course all dishes now are duck, turkey or chickthrough the winter. No butter ex en, and with these, as you know, un- cept with breakfast. And we're sav-infuel- - by the Chinese expedient, der the old system, went generous helpings of mashed potato, dressing, which is to wear warm underthings. gravy and vegetables. Even in the A Chinese doesn't heat his house; old lavish times it used to make me he keeps his person warm. So I've ashamed to see how much of this found good solid flannels, and even good food was untouched, masses of the girls have accepted somewhat it scraped away; perhaps a little modified versions of them, and conwhite meat and the vegetable eaten fidently expect to keep away from and nothing else. coughs and colds because of them. "In short, we're challenging the No Waste in Cafeteria. situation instead of sinking under it. "We now form a And as that's what our boys are leisurely line, and file by a smiling this row of volunteer girl waitresses, who doing everywhere," concludes valiant letter, "it gives us a feeling as he likes as much give everyone but no more. On the wall behind of kinship with them to keep up our their heads I put a sign: Take all end." And finally, from Montgomery, you want. But we like Ala., comes a last hint, perhaps as plates in wartime.' The Robert important as any. "The first time we did this," the Browns of that town found themshowed letter goes on, "my figures selves strangled by petty debts when of the food. the news saving of came from Pearl Harbor. Many of the women wanted only Their son was called to the colors; n that their half of the broiled took a Job. They was a serving; most of them refused looked daughter the bills in the face, and found gravy, potato, dressing entirely. them something over two thousand Everyone was amused and amiable, dollars. Yes, Just grocery and denand nobody seemed to feel that the tist and tailor and frock shop and formality or dignity of the dinner club and milkman over two thou had been Jeopardized." sand dollars. How about this, federated clubs They knew that postwar times are and Lions and Kiwanis and Rotary not times through which to struggle members, club managers and hotel with debt. So they paid up, at the stewards? Isn't this winter a good rate of about $100 a month. It meant time to try to introduce so eminently scrimping, discomfort, sensible a rule? even embarrassment. But they did Fleda Martin of Dallas also has It. And doing it, they did one of good ideas for this winter's particuthe most Important things any mothlar problem. er and father and sister can do for "My family is two girls in the boys who are coming home. she writes, "a high school-ag- e A woman in Youngstown, Ohio, husson, a food, tired, patient has moved her family downstairs for band, and my mother. Pop gels the winter. home for lunch, so we sit down six Conserve Housework and Fuel In Home every day, and we have a filling meal. Whatever ingenuity and brown "Our only bathroom is upstrfrs, tickets can do ia done then. But which somewhat complicates," says no more serving dishes go on the her letter. "But I have a small and food waste table. Serving dishes electric stove for that room. Othmean more washing. Each plate is erwise our two upper floors won't filled in the kitchen, with due ref- be heated this winter. Dad and erence to personal tastes, and what- have made a comfortable bedroom ever is left isn't shifted from pan of the parlor; my daughter has a to plate and back again. wide couch in the old study, and Conks Two Meals at Once. the two small grandsons have the "When I boil or bake anything warm dining room for playroom and prunes, potatoes, bread pudding, nursery. good-nature- Uncle Sam would have used CEAliS TIRE Whenever Uncle Sam's military vehicles run into snow, ice, mud or sand, tire chains are put on to get them through safely and The government also recognizes the importance of on time. tire chains for farm cars and trucks under WPB Order But military needs are so great, we urge you to repair usable old chains so long as they are safe. If you must have new ones, buy weed chains. For the best buy ask for weed American longer mileage, better traction, greater safety, thanks to the bridge of steel on each contact link. L-20- bar-reinforc- ed a a earn, mm am 7Tm jk DIVISION ArnkKILAN CHAIN A J ti aaw bridOPOt, Connecticut Business for Your Safety ,"mvj"' ;: rrwgy Trw 7 FRESH... because they're packed to go 2S round the world one-thir- d from Sicily to the SO THAT will get their cigarettes fresh, the Yanks way they like 'em, Camels are packed to seal in that famous Camel flavor and mild-neanywheri . . . for months at a time. ss self-denia- l, 1 Li fin,', NOTICE, when you open your pack of Camels, the rich, fresh aroma of costlier tobaccos taste their full, round flavor, and notice hew and they are , . good reasons why Camels are slow-burni- FIRST IN The favorite In the " CAMELS STAY well-cleane- d war-work- ," test Po., Softton, Chfcaqo, Denvar, DatroH, Los Angclet. Nmw York. Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Portland, San Francisco AMERICAN CHAIN CABLE COMPANY, INC. Ycwfc, THE SERVICE cigarette with men and Army, Navy, Marines, Ceest Guard Is CameL (Based on actual tales records.) 01 y |