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Show I ZHZ c rmi ' 1 I The Clan Gall a I I A By Hapsburg Liebc h g Copyright tj Doobleday, Vg J. ' saratd. Addie, honey ; Luke, you and t'ale " Mrs. Moreland and her sons arose and left the room, closing the door behind be-hind them. Bill Dale paced the floor, arms folded, brows drawn. Finally he lalted before the Moreland chief. "There's nothing I'm ashamed of. I guess," he said. "I don't like to tell it simply because I don't like to tell it. But I'll do It." He sat down In his sheepskin-lined rocker, lay back and closed his eyes as though to visualize the story, to live it over. "Maybe it's not very much In my favor, John Moreland," he began. "I never could get along with my parents, or with the set I was born into. Somehow, Some-how, I was different. Father and mother wanted me to be a dandy ; they even wanted me to let a servant dress me. The climax came when they tried to marry me to a young woman who didn't want me any more than I wanted want-ed her." He opened his eyes, looked straight at Moreland, and went on : "You see, they wanted to marry us in order to unite old Clavering's for- "You See, They Wanted to Marry Us in Order to Unite Old Clavering's Fortune and My Dad's." tune and my dad's; Patricia, like me, was an only child. It had been all cut and .dried for us, for years. They put It up to me like this : they said I owed it to them, that It was my duty; that I had always been a severe trial to them; 1 1 nit my savagery had put gray into my mother's hair, and a lot of things of that kind. I. fell for it at last; it was sort of a matter of self-defense. With I'atricia, it was a case of well, a case of simple obedience. I'at is a good girl. . . ." A minute of silence; then: "I'll hurry along wit!'. - More- land. I had one fine fi . ..iere. It was Kobert- McLni. .. reporter on thi Pity's leading new ypaper. My parents didn't take to him because he was a worker, and not a fop. Mother wanted Pat's cousin, 'poor dear Harry' Har-ry' Cltivering, for my best man. 'Poor dear Harry' and I had a fight, once upon a time, and I I had whipped him; and I didn't like blm. I chose Bobby McLaurin for my best man, and I wouldn't give utm up. "It was only when we met before the chancel in a big crowded church that I fully realized the tragedy of It for Pat. I saw that her face was a clean white, and that her eyes held the shadow of something that was very terrible. T turned my head and saw the same shadow In the eyes of my greatest friend, Bobby McLaurin. I knew then. Bobby and Patricia loved each other, John Moreland! Bobby didn't hava any money to speak of, and that had held them apart. "It had been the finest thing In the world, McLaurin's acting as best man for me. There was friendship for you ! I couldn't take from them their one chance of happlncws. . . . "I couldn't see anythlog else to do, so I ran. I went home, pulled off my wedding rig and put ou the clothes I'm wearing now, threw some things Into a hag and hurried down to the union station. I found that I could have my choice between a flier for Atlanta and the the train that brought me here. I bought passage to Atlnnta, hut I never meant to use it; I meant to take the other train and pay a cash fare. In doing that. 1 hoped to lose myself from thetn. I wanted to go unhindered to some country where I wouldn't be considered consid-ered a a savage, y'know. "I went out to the train-slied, and I hadn't bten there a minute when Bobby McLaurin came. I asked him how Is; ..v vhere to fSwc me. He said : " M .tO'ic' TOU WiKiIiIu'l fart to stay here after doing what J jj and I wanted to say good-by, 1 jj always called me that, and .: me feel like a man. Then I ij bag down and took him by b ij ders and teld him this: j "'Look here, Bobby, !'m: give you some advice, and; i. it. You steal Pat and marry H Pat and marry her if you hi ; in a hole In a hillside. You' " as any of them, and lots bV? most of them. You can work j to a better salary. You se him, 'we get about what w u 3 In this world. Most of us dot lo fj much.' ecl p "1 asked him If mother v0-cut v0-cut up. He said she wao; tha'" ! fainted. Dad swore aloud, j0 there in church. I told Bobb.j, I and got aboard the train wit ; Ing anything about where II- ing but I didn't know myst't f I was going, at the time. it I . "Now you've heard it. Ev(" was truth. If you'll trust me f coal, I'll make this laud my li people my people. I'll suffer g j, when you suffer, and be hai i you when you're happy ; and v. f fight, I'll tight with you." f The Moreland chief arose, . j Dale arose. The hillman puti I hand, and Dale gripped it. "I believe in ye, Bill," sa j Moreland. "Fo" another thii, j seed ye fight. You can work tl j He looked toward the close door and called, "Oh, Addie; : the boys can coule back now Out of the night a face appe j one of the small windows. It feminine face and handsome I than pretty. Two slender, sun jj hands gripped the window-ledg J ously. The face pressed closer glass, then disappeared. . Soon ward the outer door of the " room opened, and . Ben Litt.l daughter entered. Her skirt-dripping skirt-dripping wet. I Mrs. Moreland arose and w ward the young woman. She that only something of great tance could bring a Littleford in home in this fashion. "What's the matter, Babe?" Babe Littleford gave no atti to Mrs. Moreland. She went "" Bill Dale, walking softly on bare "Black Adam is a-goin' to kll I tonight. Bill Dale." , 5 "That so?" Dale's smile was r J grim. "How did you find Ujat ; Miss Littleford?" "I found it out, all right. A j went off from the river this mo I made fun of him ; and he pattet f stock of his rifle and said he'd git 5 through a window! He was an j house- this evenin' to help fix ...' gun, and when he left he startei. way, a-goin' by the blowed-down more. I waded the river at Blut shoals to beat him here., I though: might want to know about It, so could tnebbe save other folks the ble o' makin' a funeral fo' ye." She backed toward the door, eyes never leaving Dale's face. Anc second, and she was gone. They were all on their feet John Moreland gripped Dale's ar "Over thar aside o' the chim Bill !" he ordered, his native draw the moment absent. "Out, At honey ! Luke, bring my rifle and h jump keen ! Cale, bring water drownd this here fire!" It was done. Moreland took his and the repeater and went alone the night. When some fifteen minutes passed, there came to Dale's ear i sound of shooting. There wen shots In such rapid succession that made almost a continuous roar, came echoes and reverberations, then silence. Soon John Morelaa himself Into the dark room.. His wife's voice was low and with anxiety: "What happened, John?" A dull thud came through the ness as her husband's rifle-butt s the floor. "This is what happened, Addi I passed the cawner o' the house down that thar old oxwhlp to along. I went acrost the road an the meadew, and thar I seen Rail a-cooiin'. I hid, and when was about to pass me. I Jump and jerked his rifle from hln busted It ag in a rock. Then I In and thrashes him with the . ontel ha broke and. run. And ' here happened. Addle: "I was a-watchln' to see erf had reely went off, when I seed a-camln' toward me fast. I It was Ball, o' course. So I tells him to show me how fasL 1 run and commences a-shooti his head to skeer him. But l happen to be Adam Ball It Littleford! He was a-follerl to see what she was up to. o' "How do ye know it was Be Caleb asked. "How do I know?" growl,. T Morcb.nd. "When I got thi shootln', te boilers nt me at 'Tnm-rrnw, John Moreland' 'we'll have littlp Oettvsh'ur wii! And I might n-inrf vp he ii-cpv i, -s Wun! ,he v,; "I'LL STICK." 6yrx?rJs Younif Carlylc Wllbur-ton Wllbur-ton Dale, or "Bill Dale." as he tlecte to be known, eon of a wealthy ' coal operator, John K. Dale, ar rives at the Halfway Switch. In eastern Tennesaee, abandoning a life of Idle ease and incidentally a hrtde. Patricia Claverlng-, at the altar al-tar determined to make his own way in life. He meeui "Babe" Littleford. Lit-tleford. typical mountaineer girl. "By" Heck, a character of the hills, takes htm to John More-land's More-land's home. i MorelaM Is chief of his "clan." which has an old feud wllh the LltUefords. He tells Dale of the killing of his brother, David Mtreland, years ago, owner of rich 'Oil -leposits, by a man named :iflyte. Moreland's descrlpUon of ':ir!yl3" causes Dale to believe '.he man was his father. Dale arranges ar-ranges to make his home with the Morelnnd family, for whom he en-le.-LT.ns a deep respect. Talking with "Babe" Littleford next day. Paie is ordered by "Black Adam" Oh 11, bully of the district, to leave t.ii, girl" alone. Dale replies spir-Iteo. spir-Iteo. and they fight. Dale whips the bully, though badly used up. i : - .-SO CHAPTER Ml Continued. When Dole came back to a state of consciousness, he was lying under covers In the carved black walnut bed. Beside til in stood John Moreland, who lufld .'a one hand a bowl containing a bur herb brew that his wife had prepared. pre-pared. Granny Heck, her son By, and Mis. Moreland stood not far away. "This here'll be good fo' ye, I think," sod Moreland, nodding toward the fcowl In his hand. He went over and put an arm around Dale's shoulders and helped him to sit up. Dale drank the stuff with difficulty. "Much obliged," he muttered thickly. . "1 let's see. did I whip how did it end? He didn't lick me, did he that fellow Ball?" "He Miore didn't," smiled Moreland. "Not by a big sight. He fell out fust. Ilia own pap won't hardly know him, BU!" News travels rapidly in the big hills. The Morelands began to gather at the home of their chief to see the man wfto had whipped Black Adam Ball; eveiy Moreland able to walk came to see Bill Dale. For three hours he was lionized, but he didn't enjoy It; the w-ater bad left many pains In his -chest, and his head ached dully, and his bunds still felt as though the bones were shattered in tham. Came a thundershower that afternoon, after-noon, and the mountain evening fell wl:h a chill. A (ire was made In the wide stone fireplace In the guest's room, and when supper was over the family gathered there with Dale, who refused to be kept In bed. After a few minutes of silently -wHtching grotesque shadows Hit across tbf- log walls, Dale said to John More-iucd More-iucd : ' If your brother Da'.d could know, doi'rt you think he'd aunt you to get the value out of the OPnl?" John Moreland bent forward to rest hi chin in his hand. His sober grey eyes siareii thoughtfully toward the fire. "1 ain't never looked at It that-awry." that-awry." he iaid. "That's the right way to look at It," declared Iiale. "But you shouldn't sell the property as it is." The mountaineer turned an Inquiring Inquir-ing fiu-e toward his guest. I "How in thunder could I handle It ef I didn't?" "Why not let me develop It for youV Dale said earnestly, eagerly. "I won t i-harge you anything above ex-penis. ex-penis. and I won't be extravagant." "I'.'d taUe ctmsld'ahle money to start things n-inorln'. Have you got It?" asle! Moreland. "No, hut I can get It. Almost any-biMy any-biMy would be willing to lend money on so 'ood a thing as this, y'know." 1'or a little while .Moreland sat there and locked squarely at Dale, who returned re-turned his gaze without a sign of iliieh:iig. The hillman was trying to find a motive. 'Tin v conies It 'at you, who ain't kiuw.', us but two days," he de-i.iutidJd, de-i.iutidJd, "can be so much Int'rested in ui?" Tho question demanded a stralght-fi stralght-fi -vanl answer. Dale realized that th was but one way In which he coulc give a satisfactory explanation. an fhat (hat was by telling the truth hut not th whole truth, as he surmised it. fo then his efforts would fo t'ov naught. .MorelHiid was speaking again, and ln evea wera brighter now. "I agree 'at David would want us to develop the coal, ef he could know. - If Ilka a light a-breakin' to me. But that coal is sacred to us. Bill Dale, and afore ye go any fu'ther I'll haf to ax ye to tell ne all about ycself. A flty man up here la the wilderness It iluu't look s'pletous. I'.ill, tnebhe, bat we:!, 1 hopes ye can pardon me fo axln' it. I shore got to be keer-fut keer-fut about Brother David's coal. Addie au-1 the bovs'll go out and leave Jest is i. u .-.tve ; and w hen ye're a.talk-t a.talk-t . i: the same :.s talkin to a tor as -cl'.iu' is |