The Leader Tribune (Laverne, Okla.), Vol. 11, No. 34, Ed. 1 Friday, January 19, 1923 Page: 2 of 8
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mil LAVKMMt LBAOBM*TMBUNBi LATHINI, OKLAHOMA
The Strength of the Pines
By EDISON MARSHALL
Author of “The Voice of the Pack*'
0YNOP81B.-AI the death of tita
foster father, Brut's Duncan, In an
eastern city, receives a mysterloua
message, sent by a Mrs. Ross, sum-
moning him peremptorily to south-
ern Oregon-to meet “UimIa."
Bruce has vivid but baffling recol-
lections of his childhood In an or-
phanage, before his adoption by
Newton Duncan, with the girl Lin-
da. At hts destination. Trail’s End.
news that a message has been sent
to Bruce Is received with marked
displeasure by a man introduced
to the reader as “Simon." leaving
the train, Bruce Is astonished at
his apparent familiarity with the
surroundings, though to his knowl-
edge he has never been there.
Obedient to the message, Bruce
makes his way to Martin's cross-
roads store, for direction as to
reaching Mrs. Ross* cabin. On the
way, • Simon” sternly warns him
to give up his quest and return
East. Brucs refuses. Mrs. Ross,
aged and Infirm, welcomes him
with emotion. She hastens him on
his way—the end of “Pine-Needle
He examined tin* nmd about the
spring, nnil there win plenty of evi-
dence tlmt the forest creatures had
pane'll that way. Here wns n little
triangle where a buck hud stepped,
and further away lie found two pairs
of deer trneks— evidently those of a
doe with fawn. A wolf hud stopped
to cool his heated tongue In the wa-
ters, possibly In the middle of some
terrible hunt in the twilight hours.
Then he found a huge abrasion In
the mud that puzzled him still more.
At the first he couldn't believe that
It was a track. The reason wns sim-
ply that the site of the thing wns In-
credible—as If some one had laid a
Hour suck In the mud and taken It up
again. He did not think of any of
the modern-day forest creatures ns
being of such proportions. It was
very stale and Imd been almost oblit-
erated by many days of sun. Perhaps
he had been mistaken In thinking It
an Imprint of a living creature. He
went to his knee's to examine It.
But In one Instant he knew that lie
had not been mistaken. It wns a
trnek not greatly different from that
of an enormous human foot; and the
separate toes were entirely distinct.
It wns a benr track, of course, hut
one of such size that the general run
of little black hears that Inhabited
the hills could nlmost use It for a den
lie got up and went on—farther
toward Trail's End. He walked more
swiftly now, for lie hoped to reach
the end of Pine-Needle Trull before
nightfall, hut lie had no intention of
halting In case night came upon him
before he reached It. He had waited
too long already to find Linda.
Another hour ended the day's sun-
light. The shadows fell quickly, but
It was a long time yet until chilliness.
He yet might make the trull-end. He
pave no thought to fatigue. In the
first place, he had stood up remark-
ably well under the day's tramp for
no other reason than Hint he had al-
ways made n point of keeping In the
hest of physical condition. Besides,
there wns something more potent than
mere physical strength to sustain
him now. It wns the realization of
the nearing end of the trail—a knowl-
edge of tremendous revelations tlmt
would come to him in u few hours
Already grant truths were taking
shape In tils brain; he only needed a
single sentence of explanation lo con-
nect them all together. He began
to feel a growing excitement and im-
It was quite dark now-, and lie
could barely see the trail. For the
first time he began to despair, feeling
that another night of overpowering
Impntlence must he spent before he
could reach Trail’s End. The stars
begun to push through the darkening
sky. Then, fainter than the gleam of
n firelly, he saw the faint light of a
fur distant camp fire.
His heart bounded. He knew wlint
was there. It was the end of the
trail nt last. And It guided him the
rest of i he way. When he reached
the top of a little rise In the trail, the
whole sepne was laid out In mystery
The fire had bepn built nt the door
of a mountain house—u log structure
of perhaps four rooms. The firelight
played In Its open doorway. Some-
thing beside It caught Ills attention,
mid Instinctively he followed It with
his eyes until it ended In iu» Incred-
ible region of the stars. It wns n
great pine tree, the largest he Imd
ever seen—seemingly a greut sentinel
over all the land.
But the sudden nwe that rame over
him nt the sight of It wns cut short
by the sight of n girl's figure In the
firelight. He had ,un Instant's sense
thst he hod come to the wilderness'
heart at last, that this tall tree was
Its symbol, that If he could under-
stand the eternal watch that It kept
over this mountain world, he would
have an understanding of all things—
but all these thoughts were submerged
■ the realization that he had come
beck to Linda at last.
Re had known how the mountains
would seem. All that he had beheld
today waa Jnet the recurrence of
tblnge beheld long ego. Nothing had
seemed different from whet he had
espected; rather he had a sense that
a lost world had been returned to him.
•ad It waa almoat as If ba bad aavar
hwa away bat tha gifl la the bro-
ught did not answer In the least de-
gree the picture he had carried uf
He remembered her ns • blond-
headed little girl with Irregular fea-
tures and a rather unreasonable al-
lowance of homeliness. All Ihe way
he had thought of her as a baby sla-
ter—not as a woman In her flower.
For n long second he gased at her In
Her heir was no longer blond.
True, It had pecullnr red lights when
the firelight shone through It; but he
knew by the light of day It would be
deep brown. He remembered her as
an awkwnrd little thing thnt was
hardly able to keep her feet under
her. This tall girl had the wilderness
graee—which Is the grace of a deer
and only blind eyes cannot see It. He
dimly knew that she wore a klitikl-
colored sklit and a simple blouse of
white tied with a blue scarf. Her
arms were bnre In the fire's gleam.
And there wns a dnrk benuty about
her fuce that simply could not be
She came toward him, and her
hands were open before her. And her
Ups trembled. Bruce could see them
In the firelight.
It was n strange meeting. The fire-
light gave It a tone of unreality, and
the whole forest world seemed to
pause In Its whispered business as If
to watch. It wns ns If they had been
brought face to face by the mandates
of an Inexorable destiny,
“So you’ve cornel" the girl said.
The words were spoken unusually
soft, scarcely above a whisper; but
they were Inexpressibly vivid to
llruce. They told first of a boundless
relief nnd joy at his coming. But
morn than that. In these deep vibrant
tones was the expression of an un-
quenchable life nnd spirit. Every
fiber of the body lived In the fullest
sense; lie knew this fact the Instant
tlmt she spoke.
She smiled nt him, ever so quietly,
“liwovnhoo," she snld, recalling the
name by which she called him In her
babyhood, "you’ve come to Linda.”
As the fire burned down to coals
nnd the stars wheeled through the
sk.v, Linda told her story. The two
of them were seated In the soft grnss
In front of the cabin, and the moon-
light wits on Linda's face ns she
talked. She talked very low nt first.
Indeed there was no need for loud
tones. The whole wilderness world
was heavy with silence,-and a whis-
per carried far. Besides, Bruce was
Just heslde her, watching her with
narrowed eyes, forgetful of every-
thing except her story.
“I've waited n long lime to tell you
this," she told him. “Of course, when
we were babies together In the or-
phnnnge, I didn’t even know It. It
has taken me a long time since to
learn all the details; most of them I
got from my aunt, old Elmira, whom
you talked lo on the way out. Part
of It I knew by Intuition, und a little
of It Is still doubtful.
"You ought to know first how hard
I have tried to reach you. Of course,
1 didn't try openly except nt first—
the first years after I came here, and
before I was old enough to under-
stand." She spoke the last word with
u curious depth of feeling and n per-
ceptible hardness about her lips and
eyes. “I remembered Just two things, j
Tlmt the man who had adopted you
was Newton Duncan; one of the
nurses ut the asylum told me tlmt.
And I remembered the name of the
city where he Imd taken you.
"You must understand the difficul-
ties I worked under. There Is no
rurnl free delivery up here, you know.
Bruce. Our mail Is sent from and
delivered to the little post office at |
Martin's store —over fifteen miles
from here. And some one member of
a certain family that lives near here
goes down every week to get the mull
for the entire district,
"At first—und thnt wn» before I
really understood—I wrote you many
letters and guve them to one of this
family to mall for me. I was Just a
child then, you must know, and I
lived in the same house with these
people. They were Just baby let-
ters from—from Llndn-Tlndn to Bwov-
nboo—letters nlmut the deer nnd the
berries nnd the squirrels—nnd all the
wild tlilngR thnt lived up here."
"Berries I” Bruce cried. “I Imd some
on the wn.v up." His tone wavered,
and he seemed to be speuklng far
away. "I had some once—long ngo,"
"Yes. You will understand, soon.
I didn't understand why you didn't
answer my letters. I understand now,
though. You never got them.”
“No. I never got them. But there
are several Duncans In my city. They
might have gone astray.”
“They went astray—but It was be-
fore they ever reached the post office.
They were never mailed, Bruce. I
was to know why, later. Even then
It was part of the plan thnt I should
never get In communication with you
again—that you would be lost to me
“When I got older, I tried other
tack*. I wrote to the taylum, enclos-
ing a letter to you. But those letters
were not mallei flther.
“Now we can skip a long Mm* I
pw ■» I know everything at lam
and no longer lived with the family
I mentioned before. I fame here, to
this old house—snd made It decent
to live In. I rat my own wood for my
fuel except when one of the men
tried to please me by ratting It for
me. I wouldn't use It at Aral, Ob,
Bruce—I wouldn't touch It I"
Her face was no longer lovely. It
was drawn with terrible passions
But she quieted at once.
“At last I saw plaluly that I was a
little fool—that all they would do for
me, the better off I was At flrat, I
almost starved to death because I
wouldn't use the food that they sent
me. I tried to grub It out of the bills
But I came to It at last. But, Bruce,
there were many things I didn’t come
to. Since I learned the truth, I have
never given one of them a smile ex-
cept In scorn, not a word that wasn't
a word of Imte.
“You are a city man, Bruce. Tou
don't know what hate means It
doesn't live In the cities But It lives
up here. Believe me, If you ever ha>
lleved anything—that It lives up here.
The most hitter and the blackest bats
—from birth until death I It burnt
out the heart, Bruce. But I don't
know that I enn make you under
She paused, snd BrAf» looked awny
Into the pine forest. He believed the
girl. He knew that this grim land
was the home of direct and primitive
emotions. Such things as mercy and
remorse were out of place In the
gnme trails where the wolf puck
hunted the deer.
"When they knew how I hnted
them," she went on, "they began to
watch me. And once they knew thut
I had fully understood the situation,
I wns no longer allowed to leave this
little valley. There are only two
trails, Bruce. One goes to Elmira's
cabin on the wny to the store. The
other encircles the mountain. With
nil their numbers, It was easy to keep
watch of those trails. And they told
me what they would do If they found
me trying to go pnst."
"You don’t mean—they threatened
She threw hack her head and
laughed, hut the sound had no Joy In
It. "Threatened! If you think
threats are common up here, you are
a greener tenderfoot than ever I took
you for. Bruce, the law up here Is
the Inw of force. The strongest wins.
The weakest dies. Wnlt till you see
Simon. Y’ou'II understand then—und
you'll shake In your shoes.”
The words grated upon him, yet he
didn't resent them. "I've seen Si-
mon," he told her.
She glanced toward him quickly,
and It wns entirely plain that the
quiet tone in his voice had surprised
Perhaps the Faintest Flicker of Ad-
miration Cams Into Her Eyt*.
her. Perhaps the faintest flicker of
admiration came Into her eyes.
"He tried to stop you, did he? Of
course he would. And you enme, any-
way. May heaven bless you for It,
Bruce I" She leaned toward him, ap-
pealing. “And forgive me what I
Bruce stared nt her In amazement.
He could hardly realize that thlz was
the same voice that hod been so torn
with passion a moment before. In an
Instant all her hnrdness was gone,
and the tenderness of a sweet and
wholesome nature Imd taken Its place.
He felt a curious warmth stealing
"They meant what they Mid, Brace.
Believe me, If those men can do no
other thing, they can keep their word.
They didn't Just threaten death to
me. I could have run the risk of that.
Badly as I wanted to make them pay
before I died, I would have gladly
run that risk.
“You are amazed at the free way I
•peak of death. The girls you know,
In the city, don't even know the word.
They dofl't know what It maana. They
don't undentaad the luddra tad of
tha light—the darkness—the cold—
the awful fear that It III It's a raal-
Ity here, aomethlag to fight agalnzt
ovary hoar or every day Than are
Just three things ta de la the seoun-
talns—to live sad love and hate.
There's no softness. There's no mid-
dle ground.” Ihe smiled grimly.
“I've lived with death, and I've
heard of It, and I've sees It all my
life. If there hada't been any other
way, I would have seen It la the dra-
mas of the wild (restores that go os
around mo all tha time. Yea'll got
down to mom hero, Brace—or oIm
you'll run away. Thom men Mid
they'd do woras things to me thaa
kill mo—sad 1 didn't dart taka tha
“But once or twice I waa able to
get word to old Elmira—the only ally
I had loft. She waa of the true broad,
Bruce. You'll rail her a hag, but
she’s a woman to ba reckoned with.
Bhe could hate too—woras thaa a
she-rattlesnake hatM the man that
killed her mate-and hating la all
that's kept her alive. You shrink
when I My the word. Maybo you
won't shrink when I'm done.
"This old woman Med to get In
communication with every etranger
that visited the hills. You see, Bruce,
she couldn't write, heraelf. And the
one time I managed to get a'written
messnge down to her, telling her to
give It to tho first stranger to mall-
one of my enemies got It awny from
her. I expected te die that night. I
wasn't going to be alive when the
clan came. The only reason I didn't
was because Simon—the greatest of
them all and the one I hate the most-
kept hie clan from coming. Be bad
hla awn reasons.
“From then on ihe had to depend
on word of mouth. But at last—Just
a few week* ago—she found a man
that knew you. And It Is your story
from now on."
Hiey were still a little while. Brace
nrose and threw more wood on the
“It’s only the beginning," he Mid.
"And yon wxnt me to tell you alir*
she naked hesitantly.
"Of course. Why did I come here?"
"You won't believe me when I My
thnt I'm almost sorry I sent for you."
She spoke almost breathlessly. “I
didn't know that It would be like this
That you would come with a smite on
your face and a light In your eyes,
looking for happiness. And Instead
of happiness—to find all this!"
She stretched out her arms to the
forests. Bruce understood her per-
fectly. She did not mean the woods
In the literal sense. She meant the
primal emotions thnt were their spirit.
"To know the rest, you’ve got to go
bark a whole generation. Bruce, have
you heard of the terrible blood-fetids
that the mountain families sometimes
“Of course. Jinny times.”
“These mountain* of Trail's End
have been the scene of as deadly a
blood-feud ns was ever known In the
West. And for one*, the wrong was
all on one side.
"A few miles from here there Is a
wonderful valley, where a stream
flows. There Is not much tillable land
In these mountains, Bruce, but there,
along thnt little stream, there are al-
most five sections—three thousand
acres—of ns rich land ns was ever
plowed. That tract of land wns ac-
quired long ago by n fnmlly named
Boss, nnd they got It through some
kind of grant. I enn't be definite ns
to the legnl nspects of hII this story.
They don’t matter anyway—only the
"These Boss men were frontiersmen
of the first order. They were virtuous
men too—trusting every one, nnd oh!
what strength they had! With their
own hands they denred away the for-
est nnd put the land into rich pasture
nnd hay nnd grain. They raised great
herds of cattle und had flocks of sheep
"It was then that dnrk days began
to come. Another family—bended by
the father of the nmn I call Simon—
migrated here from the mountain dis-
tricts of Gkluhomn. But they were
not so Ignorant ns many mountain
people, and they were ‘killers.’ Per-
haps that's b word you don’t know.
Perhaps you didn’t know It existed. A
killer Is a man that has killed other
men. It Isn't a hnrd thing to do at
nil. Bruce, after you are used to It.
These people were used to It. And
because they wanted these great lands
—my own father's home—they begun
to kill the Rosses,
"At first they made no war on the
Kolgers. The Folgers, you must know,
were good people, too, honest to the
last penny. They were connected, by
marriage only, to the lloss family.
They were on our side dear through.
At the beginning of the feud the head
of the Folger family was Just a young
ninn, newly mnrrlcd. And ht had a
son after a while.
“The newcomer* called It a feud.
But It wasn't a feud—It was simply
murder. Oh, yea, we killed some of
them, Folger and my father and all
hla kin united against them, making a
great clan—but they were nothing In
strength compared to the uiurpere.
Simon htmralf we* Jnet • boy when
It began. But he grew to be the greet-
eet power, the trader of the enemy
clan before ha waa twanty-ona,
"Yon must know, Bract, that my
own father hold tbo land. Bat ha waa
so generous that hla brothora who
helped him farm It hardly raaUaad.
that poaatMlon waa In hla nama. And
father was a daad shot, It took a
long Una before they could Mil him."
Tbo ootdaeta that had earns over
her wards did Bat Ui tbo latat bids bar
Mo «M daetma« and *abt atoMtl la
"Bat Hasan loot a hey then—and
In™, Ms brother, and tha others ef
them kept after us like ao many
wolves. Thera waa no escape. The
only thing we could da waa ta dght
back—end that waa tho way we
teamed te beta. A tael ran hate,
Brace, when he le fighting for his
home. He ran leers It very well when
he eees hla brother fall dead, or hla
father—or a stray ballet hit hla wife.
A woman ran loam It, too, as old El-
mira did, whm oho finds her soa'o
body In tho dMd leaves. Thera was
no law hero to atop It Tho llttlo aaa
bianco of law that waa la tha vallaya
below rogardod It ao a blood-feed, and
didst bothor Itself about It, Beeldso—
at first wo wort too proud to can for
help. And after oar numbers wore
few, the trade were watched—and
thoaa who tried to go down Into tho
volley never got there.
"One after a Bother the Romos were
killed, and I needn't make It nay
wnrao for you thaa I caa help—by
telUag of each hilling. Enough to My
that at last ao one waa loft except
a few old mu whose eyM won too
dim to shoot straight, and my own
father. And I waa a baby then—Juat
"Then on# sight my father—seeing
the fete that was coming down upon
them—took tba last count to defeat
them. Matthew Folger—a conneetloa
The Qlrl We* Speaking Slowly New,
Evidently Watching tho Effect of
Her Words an Her Listener.
by marriage—was stilt alive. Simon's
clan hadn't attacked him yet. He had
no share In the land, but Instead lived
In this house I live In now. He had
a few cattle and some pasture land
farther down the Divide. There had
been no purpose In killing him. He
hadn't been worth the extra bullet.
■One night my father left me asleep
and stole through the forests to talk
to him. They made an agreement. I
have pieced It out, a little at a time.
Jly father deeded all hla land to Fol-
“I can understand new. The enemy
clan pretended It waa a blood-feud
only—nnd thnt It was fair war to kill
the Rosses. Although my fnther knew
their real nlm was to obtain the land,
be didn't think they would dnre kill
Matthew Folger to get It. He knew
thnt he himself would fall, sooner or
Inter, but he thought thnt to kill Fol-
ger would show their cards—and thnt
would be too much, even for Simon's
people. But he didn’t know. He
hadn't foreseen to wliut lengths they
Bruce leaned forward. "So they
killed—Mntthcw Folger?" he asked.
He didn't know that his face hnd
gone suddenly stark white, nnd that
n curious glitter had come to hts eyes.
He spoke breathlessly. For the name
—Matthew Folger—railed up vague
memories that seemed to reveal great
truths to him. The girl smiled grimly.
"Let me go on. Jly fnther deeded
Folger the land. The deed was to
go on record so that all the world
would know that Folger owned It, and
If the clan killed him It wns plainly
for the purposes of greed alone. But
there was also a secret agreement—
drawn up In black nnd white and to
be kept hidden for twenty-one years.
In this agreement, Folger promised to
return to me—the only living heir of
the Rosses—the lands acquired by the
deed. In reality, he was only holding
them In trust for me, and was to re-
turn them when I was twenty-one.
In case of my father's death, Folger
was to be my guardian until that time.
“Folger knew the risk he ran. but
he was a brave man and he did not
care. Resides, he was my father'*
friend—and friendship goes far In the
mountains. And my father was shot
down before • week wae past.
“The clan had acted quick, you ae».
When Folger heard of It, before the
dawn, he came to my father's house
and carried me away. Before another
night waa done he wee killed too.”
The perspiration Iraped out on
Bruce’s forahMd. Tho rod glow of
the fire wee In hie eyes.
"He fell almost where this fira la
built, with a thirty-thirty bullet la hi*
brain. Which ona ef the clan MUed
him I do not know—but In nil prob-
ability It waa liman hlmralf—at that
tlma only elghtoen yrar* of ago. And
roller's tlttla boy—something put
fonr yrare old—wandered ont in tie
moonlight, to find his father's body "
The |irt waa epMklng slowly now
evtdaatly watching tha affect of bar
worts an bar llgtanar. Ha waa brat
forward, and Ms hraeth came ta queer,
wMmnMb imb tar he ar>
dmd Mvagety. TUB M MB EMM
Why de yen ta» an wnltlngr
The girl smiled again—Ilk* a ene»
csraaa. "Folger’* wife was from tho
plain* country,” ah* told him stowlyJ
"If eh* bad been of the mountains sb»
might have remained to do some kill-
ing on her own account Like old El-
mira heraelf remained te de—killing
on her nwn account! But she wae
from cities. Just as you are, but she—
unlike you—had no mountain blood In
her. Elio wasn't used In death, and
perhaps aha didn't know how to hat*
Ihe only knew how to bo afraid.
"They My that she went almoat In*
mm at M>* eight of that strong, brave
mu of bore lying still la tho pine
needle*. Ihe hadn't even known he
wee eat of tho bouse. He had gone
nut an enme secret burinsm lets el
night. She bed only on* thing left—
her baby boy and her little foot so-
daughter—little Linda Enas, who le
before you sow. Her only thought
wee to get those children out ef that
dreadful land of bloodshed sad to
hid* them so that they could aevar
com* beck. And ah* didn't even want
them to know their true parentage.
She seemed to restlM that If they had
known, both of them would return
some time—to collect their debts.
Sooner or later, that boy with the Fol*
ger blood In him and that girl with
the Rom blood would return, to at*
tempt to regain their ancient bolding*
and to make the clan pay I
"All that wee left were a few eld
women with hat* la their hearts and
a strange tradition te take the place
of hope. They Mid that some time. It
dMth spared them, they would *M
Folger'* eon com* back again, and
aaaert hla rights They said that a
new champion would aftae and right
their wrongs But mostly death didn't
■pare them. Only old Elmtru I* ML
"What became of tha secret ngrew
meat I do not know. I haven't any
hop* that you do, either. The deed
was carried down to the courts by
Sharp, on* of the witnesses who man-
aged to get past the guard, and pat
on file soon after It was written. Tbo
rest Is short. 8lmon and his clan took
up the land, swearing that JfnttheV
Folger had deeded It to them the day
he had procured It. They had a deed
to slioV for It—a forgery. And tba
one thing that they feared, the one
weak chain, waa that thli secret
agreement between Folger and my
father would be found.
"You see what that would mean. It
would show that he had no right ta
deed away the land, a* he whi simply
holding tt In trust for ms Old Elmira
explained the matter to me—If I get
mixed up on the legal end of It, ex*
cuso It If that document could be
found, their forged deed would be ob*
vlously Invalid. And It angered them
that they could not find It.
“Of courae they never filed their
forged deed—afraid that the forgery
would be discovered—but they kept
It to show to any one tliit was In-
terested. But they wanted to make
themselves still sufer.
"There had been two witnesses ta
the agreement. One of them, ■ mna
named Sharp, died—or was killed—
shortly after. The other, an old trap-
per named Hudson, was Indifferent ta
the whole matter—he was Just pass*
Ing through and was at Folger’* houM
for dinner the night Ross came. He la
•till living In theee mountains and ba
might be of value te a* yet
"Of course the clan did not feel at
all secure. They suspected the secret
ngreement had been mailed to somd
one to tuke care of, and they were
afraid that It would be brought to light
when the time wns ripe. They knew
perfectly thut their forged deed would
never stand the test, so one of the
things to do was to prevent their claim
ever being contested. That meant te
keep Folger's son In Iguorauc* of th*
“I hope I can make that clear. Th*
deed from my father to Folger was on
record, Folger was dead, and Folger's
non would have every right and op
portunlty to contest the clan'e claim to
the land. If he could get the matter
into court, he would surely win.
"The second thing to do was to win
me over. I was Just a child, and It
looked the easiest course of all. Tnat't
why I was stolen from the orphanage
by one of Simon's brothers. The Ides
was simply that when the time cam*
I would marry one of the clan and e%
tubllsh their claim to the land forever,
“Up to a few weeks ago tt seemed
to me that sooner or later I would wlu
out Bruce, you can’t dream what It
meant I I thought that some time I
could drive them out and make them
pay, a little, for all they have done.
But they've tricked me, after alJ. I
thought thut I would get word to Fol-
ger'a eon, who by Inheritance would
have a clear title to the land, and ha
with the aid of the courts, could drlva
these usurper! out. But just recently
I’ve found out that even this chant*.
Is all but gone.
He put hit arm* about her
and he kissed her gently #n
pro Ba continubo.)
Origin of the Xulder Zea
The Zuider Zee la a raeult of tha
bunting of tha dykes. This hgppened
m tha Thirteenth century, sad, la
•ddltloa te Hollaed being cut ta twa
rad Friesland being separated from
th* rest of the country by a I arts
ahnt of watar, hundreds of vitlagig
wart submerged and about SOyOM pew
aeaa were drowned.
Matrimony seem* generally gpah
lag, to ba a court proposition. Ba ba
glue bp suing for bar band, sad BJ
Here’s what’s next.
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Ray, Leslie I. The Leader Tribune (Laverne, Okla.), Vol. 11, No. 34, Ed. 1 Friday, January 19, 1923, newspaper, January 19, 1923; (gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc826094/m1/2/: accessed January 22, 2019), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.