The Supply Republican (Supply, Okla.), Vol. 24, No. 19, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 21, 1925 Page: 2 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Oklahoma Digital Newspaper Program and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
THE REITBLICAN. SITPLY. OKLAHOMA
The Free Traders
M'GRATH’S TRAP
STNOTSIR.—Arxleraon, Roy-
*1 rtniditn Mounted folio »rr-
team, la Mat to II u* to
arrest a man named felly for
murder. Ha la alau Inalrucled to
look after Jim Ituthway, reputed
iieud of the ' Frea Traders," Illicit
liquor runners. At Little Kalla
he (tnda felly la credited with
having found a told mine, and
la rnlaalng. At the hutei appears
a girl, obvloualy out of place In
the rough aurroundlnga. A half-
breed, flerre, and a companion,
"Shorty," annoy the girt An-
deraon Interferes In her behalf.
The girl aeta out for blaloli Lake,
which la also Auderaon'a objec-
tive. tie overtakes her and tha
two men with whom he had trou-
ble the night before. She la sus-
picious of him and the two men
are hostile. flerre and Shorty
ride on, Anderson and the girl
following. In the hills the road
in blown up before and behind
the two. Anderson, with his
horae. Is hurled down the moun-
tain side, seneelees. Recovering
consciousness, Anderson Hilda
i he girl han disappeared, but ha
concludes she Is alive and prob-
ably In the power of flerre and
Shorty. On- foot he makes his
way to Slaton Lake. There he
finds hln companion of the day
before and Ralhway, with a girl,
Estelle, a former sweetheart of
Anderson s, who had abused his
confidence mid almost wrecked
his life. Rathway strikes Retells,
and after a light Anderson, with
Kstelle s help, escapes with lha
girl. Anderson's companion a
mind Is clouded and she la suf-
fering with a dislocated knee.
Anderson sets the knee and
makes the girl as comfortable as
possible. He has a broken rib.
The two plan to muka their way
to a Moravian mission, of which
Father McGrath has charge.
Their acquaintance ripens Into
love. The girl remembers that
her name Is Joyce felly. She Is
daughter of the man Anderson
has b.en sent to arrest. Torn
between her love for her father
and her regard for Anderson, the
girl practically drives him from
her. In the forest Anderson
stumbles upon the entrnnee to a
gorge and la convinced he has
located felly's mine. In the tun-
nel he Is attacked by an unseen
adversary, whom he takes to be
felly. A knife thrust Is turned
aside by the girl's hair In his
blouse Escaping, he returns to
the -shin, to And Joyce gone. He
follows her trail lo the mission
of Father McOrath. The priest
repulsea him, hut Joyce feel* her
love return and welcomes him.
Her memory has been In a meas-
ure restored. Lee visits the
mine again, finding there the
grave of a woman, marked "He-
lene felly," and the skeleton of
a man clutching a revolver on
which are the letters "C. P„"
without doubt Joyce's father.
Anderson breaks the news of her
father's death to Joyce. Father
McGrath agrees to marry the
couple.
CHAPTER XII—Continued
—10—
The mm rose high. It wns begin-
ning to descend. It ceased to (Humi-
liate the gorge. Lee wns nearing the
second sapling. He would work on
till that was passed, and then—what?
And now each step of each ascent
was an* Incredible labor. His hands
were lumps of bruised flesh. He wns
hardly conscious what he was doing.
Still, he must reach the second sap-
ling—
He passed It. A sort of fllin de-
scended over his consciousness. In
the declining day he saw himself
staggering 'round the gorge, seeking
for some other egress. Impossible!
l'or forty feet there were footholds In-
numerable In the lower part of the
cliffs; above them the hard granite
surface bulged Inward. There was no
handhold for an ape. And he stag-
gered from one end of the gorge to
the other, 'round ntul ‘round and
'round—nn ape in a cage—
He dropped upon the ground utterly
worn out, utterly hopeless. A little
respite, nnd then he would arise, to
struggle again, a short sleep—
Itesplte? He had slept, and that
lynx sense of his had Just awakened
Mm In time—Just In time to antici-
pate that shadow stealing down the
gorge toward him. A misshapen,
gross thing that leaped forward, snarl-
ing, and then leaped buck as Lee
struck at It.
Lee was alert on the instnnt. In
that thing alone Iny his chance of es-
cape. And, ns It vanished Into the
shadows, Lee went blundering Hfter It
In the darkness, finding it, losing It.
lie saw It In every moon-shadow
among the rocks. He heard It Jeering
at hi in. Then stones began to fly.
fine grayed his cheek, one struck him
In the chest. Now the thing was In
front of him, nnd when he rushed. It
was not there, nnd a shower of atones
from an unexpected quarter eut his
lip and chin.
Thus tortured, maddened, Lee was
halted till the second dawn filtered
Into the gorge. There was no respite.
All the while Lee struggled ugalnst the
bonds of sleep. He would rest, his
eyes closing for an Instant—It was
upon him ugnln. a stone would hurtle
past him; another rush would follow,
and again tfca thing wns gone In the
£srk.
Down—day'.ight—sunlight. Crouched
By
Victor Rousseau
\ vbt>J » •* 111 b> V> li l l44y>uau.j
W NU b«r v )c«
behind a ridge or rock above him, Lee
saw the uilsslia|>en figure with the
uinsshe shoulders and the long,
furred arms.
And, yielding to the elemental rage
that was In him, Lee whipped out his
automatic and fired two bullets. They
chipped fragments of stone from be-
side the face, which continued to
watch him unmoved. That face. Il-
lumined hy the sunlight In the gorge,
appeared so human, so Intelligent, so
much at variance with the mlaatiupen
body, that Lee was shocked at the
sight of It.
It wns only a man—but such a
man! A gorilla, all hut the human
face.
Lee had already pulled the trigger
a third time, hut there wns no third
shot. Then he remembered that he
had had only two eartrhlgeg remaining.
He wns unarmed.
He sprang, and a stone struck him
In the chest and hurled him backward.
Like two baboons they bombarded
each other with stones; but at last,
us a fortunate shot sent the other
staggering, Lee managed to close with
him.
The face, bruised nnd battered from
the encounter In the tunnel, looked
Impassively Into his. I.ee struck, and
quickly discovered that he had not
strength enough left to administer a
knockout blow; while at close quarters
i he was decidedly at a disadvantage.
On the other hand Ills opponent was
equally unable to overcome him, for
he could not stand up agnlnst Lee’s
fists at short range long enough to
allow him time to get the gripping
power of those shoulders Into action.
At lust, bleeding and bruised, they
broke off the fight simultaneously, nnd
lay sine by side, panting, upon the bot-
tom o! the gorge.
Lee look stock of the other. The
man looked like an Indlnn, but there
was a touch of the Caucasian In him.
Lee addressed him for the first time.
“What Is It that you want? Why
have you attacked me?”
The answer—Lee had hardly ex-
pected that there would he nn an-
swer—was in a tone singularly soft. In-
credibly at variance with the appear-
ance of that gross body.
"You find the way In. But you
never find the way out. You fight me
and I fight you. You sit down here so
and I sit down here beside you so.
When you fight I fight, nnd when you
| stop I stop, and so we wait until you
sleep. And then ‘le grand mort’ come."
This devilish conception made Lee’s
■ Mood run cold. For even now Ills eye-
lids were drooping—drooping, and the
other watched with cunning eyes.
He tried to find strength to leap.
I rend him with teeth nnd nails If his
bruised fists and weakened arms
■ failed him. But the other, reading
what passed In his mind, crouched,
ready for him.
Li>e shot an arrow at a venture. "Le-
boeufl” he said softly.
The other started. “Kh, you have
learn 1u.v name? That makes no dif-
ference."
"Why do you wish to kill mo. Le-
boeuf? Is It that you think I have
come here to seize the mine?”
"Listen, then. I swore to my master
before he died tlint no one shall take
the gold away. Therefore, since you
have found the way Into the tunnel.
| you shall never leave It.”
“Suppose I am a friend?"
"No, no friend. You have come for
. the gold. Y'ou came to seize my mas-
ter, who Is dead, to take tils gold
away. There he lies dead and he hns
come to me In dreams and told me he
must not he buried till Ma'm'zelle
Joyce hns got the gold. Al, you shall
i never have his gold."
"Listen, Lehoeuf! Miss Joyce and
I love each other—”
"No. nn. you nre lying, nnd, besides
It would make no difference. Did l
not hear her In the house, telling you,
'GoI Go!’ No, you sliull never take
lier gold."
Lee desisted from sheer weariness.
He strove desperately In his mind,
trying to find some way by which he
j could convince this madman—but Ills
eyelids closed, nnd suddenly, with a
snarl, Lehoeuf was upon him, Ida fin-
gers twining around his throat.
Lee shook himself free. He sprang
at him, the Inst of tils waning strength
put forth. They clinched, they fought,
Lee's fists beat against the bruised
face, drawing fresh blood. Leboeuf
released him, hut springing to a dis-
tance, began hurling stones at him,
cursing him.
Then he sat down and waited.
I.ee must stay awake till nightfall.
He would find some way out of the
gorge. He would cut footsteps In the
granite with a stone—wild and Impos-
sible thoughts nm through his mind.
He strode to and fro beside the river
bank.
Some little distance away Leboeuf
sat watching him. Lee's hatred for
that bruised. Impassive face wns ele-
mental. He fiung a atone. The aim
was true; It cut Leboeufs Up open.
Blood began to drip, but Leboeuf
never atlrred.
Lee sat down. He must corserve
Ms strength—he sturted up. He had
slept for u moment, and Leboeuf was
creeping toward him. The sun blazed
over the edge of the gorge.
A moment later Leboeuf wns almost
at his side, yet he was not conscious
of his having moved, or of having
rlosed his eyes. He got up wear-
ily, picked up a stone, nnd (lung It Into
Leboeuf's face, gashing his cheek.
Lehoeuf never moved.
Lee looked about him for a larger
stone.
He wns lying upon bis back, nnd Le-
hoeuf was kneeling on him gripping
his throat. He tried to struggle. The
w iry fingers ripped the tatters cf his
shirt away.
Ntxt moment a cry broke from Le-
boeuf's lips. He wus fingering the
colls of Joyce’s hair. He knew them,
perhaps hy the faint odor of her that
clung to them.
He fell upon Ills knees. "Monsieur.
It Is hers! Forgive! Forgive! I nm
an old fool I So among my people the
maidens glie their hair as tokens of
love! Ah. Monsieur, Monsieur—see,
11 w III Rhow you the entrance, and you
] shall take the gold for her. So my
master spoke In u dream—hut I did
not know you!"
And, darting from Lee’s side, he
scrambled straight up the fnre of the
cliff between the saplings. He dragged
away a stone, fitting so dowdy into
the tunnel’s mouth that Lee had never
guessed it had been placed there.
And, with a mournful cry. Lehoeuf
disappeared within the tunnel.
Lee staggered to the cliff beneath
It, tried to nscend, dropped hack, and
In a moment wus fast asleep upon the
bottom of the gorge.
CHAPTER XIII
And on the Day After
T omorro w
I Lee slept the clock around, for, when
he awoke, refreshed and restored, ex-
cept for his bruised and blistered
hands, the sun was In tile same part
of the sky us when he hud gone to
sleep.
For a few moments the memory of
that grotesque struggle seemed like
something that he had read In n book.
Then, bit by bit, it began to become
a part of memory’s records.
But It was not until, looking tip.
he saw the entrance to the tunnel
plainly visible In the cliff overhead,
that he realized the whole episode
hod not been a disordered dream, born
of his frantic, futile struggles.
And even then Lee could not con-
vince himself until be lmd gone back
to Felly's skeleton and ascertained
that It was really there, nnd looked
at the Initials on the butt of the re-
volver, and stood beside the little
grave.
Then, very painfully, for his hands
were skinned and raw, Lee clnmbered
up the cliff nnd mnde his way through
the tunnel. He did not think he would
ever want to visit Telly's gold mine
again.
He hnd suspected all the while that
the mine was a myth, and even now
he was not convinced that there was
gold in It.
But Joy w-as In his henrt, Joy over-
flowing, for all his troubles were at
an end. He was going to Joyce, to
make her his wife, to take her away.
And his henrt thumped at the antic-
ipation of that Incredible dream, and
he trod the trnll toward the log house
like a boy. He broke his long fast
with a moderate meal and started
for the mission. As he went up the
ascent a mob of half-breed and In-
dlnn children came pouring out of the
schoolhouse. And there in the en-
trance Joyce was standing, watching
them—and him, upproachlng.
She looked up at him gravely as he
drew near, and she knew at once from
the look on his face enough to make
the breaking of the news less of a
shock to her. But the tears rolled
down her cheeks as he told her of her
father’s death.
"Joyce, darling. I can't help feeling
that It's the best thing—In the end,"
said I.ee. "At least his sufferings are
at an end.”
"I think so, too, Lee," she answered
calmly. "And now I know that—some-
how—1 have always known my father
was no longer alive. The bond be-
tween us was very close, though I was
away from him so many yenrs."
Lee told her about the discovery of
the mine and his encounter with Le
boeuf. slurring over the story of the
Indian's attack on him. Then Joyce
caught sight of his hands, nnd was all
sympathy and dismay, and took him
Into a hut and bathed them und ban-
daged them.
Father McGrath bad gone to visit
nn old Indian In the neighborhood, nnd
the two talked a long time, and then
a»e a simple meal together In the pres-
ence of the children, who stared at
I.ee over their soup dishes out of their
large, black eyes.
“It Is strange, the mine being so near
the house," Joyce said. “You know
Mother and 1 were never quite con-
vinced that there was a mine. We
were never quite sure ttiat my father
hadn't a delusion on that subject, and
that lehoeuf, who was devoted to hliu,
wasn't humoring him.
"(Jld Leboeuf must have been living
there for a long time. Be had some
grudge against Bath way, you know.
He would have killed him once. If iny
ftither hadn't Intervened."
She reverted to her father’s denth,
and Lee was reluctantly compelled to
give her the particulars.
“He may have suffered a stroke nnd
have fallen over the cliff," he said.
“At any rate, his death was Instan-
taneous. You may be sure he did nut
suffer."
it was when he spoke of his dis-
covery of her mother's grave that
Joyce showed signs of brenklng down.
“She was 111 such a long time," she
snld. "She was paralyzed, and there
was nothing that could be done for
her. When she died my father and
Lehoeuf carried her body away Into
the forest hy night. They would never
tell me where she hnd been hurled,
nnd I remember I used to prowl about
the house, always hoping to discover
her grave. I suppose that was u part
of my father's madness. In a wny. He
wanted her to be near him where he
was working."
It was after dinner thnt Lee opened
the subject nearest to his heart.
“Denr, you know what I want to
ask," he said. "Will you let me take
you south with me before the snows?
And will you let Father McGrath
marry us before we start?"
“Ob, Lee—when?” she asked.
"Today, dearest."
"Oh. not today, Lee!”
"Tomorrow, then? And we’ll spend
our honeymoon In the log house. Just
for n day or two of happiness together
before taking up the trail. I know It
will always he your home, Joyce, and
that we shall often come bnck here,
now that the unhappiness of the past
18 over."
"Walt, Lee!" Joyce was w rinkling her
forehead In that manner that always
distressed him so much. “I wnnt to
ask you something.: Have you renlly
told me everything—from the time
when I hud my fall from the horse
until I awnkened in the forest with
you? Or have you—hidden something
from me—out of consideratlou for
me?”
"Why do you ask thnt, dear?"
"Because I—I feel that you have,
Lee. I don't know why. It's Just nn
instinct I have. And If there is some-
thing more, I should like to he told,
because—because I have a feeling that
it may help me to recover that part of
my life that Is still a blank to me.”
Lee felt In a quandary. It was Im-
possible to wish to keep anything from
Joyce; and yet he felt that she ought
never to know the incidents of that
day nnd night at Siston lake.
“If you don’t want to tell me,
dear—” Joyce went on.
Lee had to tell her then, and did.
minimizing the affair In all hut Its
essentials. He said nothing about Ills
fight with the Free Traders, but told
her how she had been kidnaped hy
the two men and taken to Rathway's
camp, nnd how. In the absence of the
hand, he had rescued her.
"And you say I wns unconscious nil
thnt time?” asked Joyce. “I wish 1
could understand It, nnd I wish I
could remember. It seems so strange
that part of my memory should come
hack to me, and not all of it. Who
were those men and what did they
want of me? Were they Unthwuy's
men? And what did he want?"
"I think the explanation is simple,
dear," Lee answered. "Knthway wants
the secret of your father’s mine. In
some way he must have lenrned thnt
you were coming back to the range.
He sent his men to intercept you.
They probably told you that Rnthwa.v
had your father In his power, and that
Is why you proposed to accompany
them, nnd why you didn't want me."
"Not want you, Lee? I wanted you
from the first minute 1 saw you. I'll
tell you n secret, shall 1? Well—1—1
fell In love with you that evening In
the hotel, and I’ve been In love with
you ever since. There 1
"But why was I riding In the range?"
she resumed. "What was It on m.v mind
so terrible thnt there seems a port of
blackness there? I felt that you could
save me." She shook her head. “No.
there's more to It than thnt, my dear.
And—I don't know—perhaps 1 shall
never know.”
Lee slipped his arm nhout her.
"Joyce, denr. don't try to think. It
doesn't matter. Nothing la going to
matter any more. You nre no longer
the unknown girl, traveling alone
through a wilderness, whose disap-
pearance would arouse no suspicions
Once you are my wife, Ituthway can-
not harm you. And then you have
Father McGrath behind you, and the
church that he represents, and the mis-
sionary societies behind that. Rath-
way's not fool enough to buck a power-
ful organization by any crime—hi*
cue la to Ue low and sell all the liquor
he can Itefore we put him out of huot-
nes*. Tell me you’ll marry me soon."
“But the mine, Lee? And poor La-
boeuf?"
“We'll look Into those matters dur-
ing our little honeymoon. Tell me
that It slmll he tomorrow."
Joyce hesitated; and while she hesi-
tated they heard the tinkle of bells,
und Father McGrath appeared in his
horse sleigh, coining up the hill.
They went to the door. The Jolly
priest waved his hand and pulled In
“Well, Meestuir Anderson, and so
ye're hack again!" he cried heartily,
gripping Lee's hand with a fist of
Iron. "*Tls hnrrd going ivi' the horse
through the snow, and 1 reckon I II
have to tak’ to the dogs mighty soon.
This is winter for sure at Inst!”
He scrutinized the pair keenly. ‘‘Ye
liavna made another of your queek
changes?" lie Inquired, with an absurd
affectation of urchness that set them
both laughing.
“No; I've fulfilled the cnnditloni
thnt were Imposed on me." Lee an-
swered, nnd with that narrated till
adventures In the mine.
“And Miss Telly has promised t«
marry me tomorrow," he ended uien-
duciously.
"N—not tomorrow. I.ee," snld Joyce.
Anil Father McGrath, who had been
listening to Lee's story with many
ejaculations, looked so severe that Lee
had a sudden terror that he would re-
fuse to perform the ceremony.
“The day after, then, Joyce?” Lee
pleaded.
Joyce Interposed no veto this time,
hut wns blushing like a rose und look-
ing adorably confused.
"WeeI—" began the father. “Weel,
I'm not In favor of such qiieeckness.
Have you two young folks conseedcred
the consequences of matreemony. the
awful nnd inevitable consequences?
Have ye tliocht o' the horror o' sitting
doon opposite each liher at the break-
fast table mornln' after raornlu’ for
the rest o' your lives togithcr? Have
ye thocht o’ the stunning responsibili-
ties of the married state?".
Lee was beginning to grow Hlarmed,
hilt of a sudden he discerned a twinkle
In the worthy father’s eyes. And sud-
denly Father McGrath smote Lee vio-
lently upon the hack.
“I'll do It, mon I" be shouted. "I'll
do It. "FIs the one practical Joke that
is permeeslble to a mccnister. I be-
lieve In matreemony. TIs the grrnnd-
est o’ the dispensations of Our I/ord
on nirth! Mony's the time I’ve hummed
and hawed and pretended na to he
willin’ when a young pair's come to
me to marry them, he thinking he's got
the wurrlds desire by the forelock,
nnd she proud and happy wT her mon,
hut by na means quite all that his
fond imageenatlon pictures her.
"And I’ve laughed In my sleeve and
thocht, 'Ha, ha. ye scullions, 'tin the
trap ye’re nsking me to spring on ye,
nnd I’m going to shut It fast.' And so
I've married them. And It'll no be so
valry long, mnrrk ye, before they're
coming Jto me wT tlielr grievances.
“'Oo, Father, my wife does this nnd
wllna do that, nnd she wilna obey nor
honor me, as she's sworn to do. nnd
I’m no sure she loves me.’ And it's
‘Oo. Father, my mon's got a temper
like the de'il hisself, nnd the jealousy
o' the grrantl Turk.’
"Then I speak to them verra soft.
‘My dear mon, and my denr wumman,’
I say, 'ye're baith caught fast, nnd
what's done cannn he undone. 'Tis
what matreemony’s for, to help a mon
and a wum ;n to deesclpline—their
natures. 'Tis a grrand deespensation.
is matreemony. And, if ye’ll baith re-
member’—I go on. speakin’ wl’ what
ye might call a touch of unction—‘I
hesitated before admitting ye to Its
privileeges, for weel I saw that ye
were twn ill-assorted natures—' ‘Naeth-
Ing o’ the sorrt!' they burst out indig-
nantly. And wl’ that they go of, amn
in nrrm together.”
"1 hope you haven't Miss Telly nnd
myself In mind. Father,” said Lee,
laughing. "I’m willing to step into
your trap tomorrow, nnd I’m more
willing to step into it this minute."
Father McGrath looked at them
quizzically. "Weel, we’ll Just say the
day after tomorrow, Anderson," he
suld. "For ye ken, Anderson, a wum-
man wants a leetle time to picture her-
self a bride In her mind's eye before
she becomes one.”
"And so they are married and
live happily ever afterward.”
Not at all. With their marriage
tl eir troubles begin again.
no F.K CONTINUED.)
His Favorite Selection
Disc music bus been instrumental In
giving muny families education of a
kind that enables them to recognize
the classics, and many people who
have slight knowledge of compositions
or technique ure fond of the best se-
lections.
In a South side family a small boy
loves to henr the quartet from "Itigo-
letto," but he isn’t familiar with the
title of the piece. In asking for his
favorite not long ago the boy said to
his mother, "Tlease put on the piece
where the lady tries to beat the man
talking."—Youngstown tuhlu) Tele-
gram.
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
The Supply Republican (Supply, Okla.), Vol. 24, No. 19, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 21, 1925, newspaper, May 21, 1925; Supply, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc848414/m1/2/: accessed April 24, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.