The Okarche Times. (Okarche, Okla.), Vol. 19, No. 40, Ed. 1 Friday, February 3, 1911 Page: 7 of 8
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A young woman cast ashore on a lone-
ly Island, finds a solitary inhabitant, a
young white man, dressed like a savage
and unable to speak in any known lan-
guage. She decides to educate him and
mold his mind to her own ideals. She
finds evident'*1 that leads her to believe
that the man is John ltevell Charnoek of
Virginia, and that he was cast ashore
~ is a
A few days on
Katharine Brenton wa
puniversify. Her vvriti
%vhen a .-li d I.
highly spt lalized product of
versify. Her writings on the sex
lent attracted wide attention. The i
u multi-millionaire becomes infa
■with her and they decide to put h
cries into practice. A few days
yacht reveals to her that he onl
jessed lofty ideals to possess her.
drunk he attempts to kiss her. She
knocks him down and leaves hint uncon-
■clo ......*- *v~~ ..... *" "
Ions ______ ... --
soline launch. During a storm she is
island. Three years’
and escapes in the darkness in a
east ashore* t
tea lone ;:i. ■••• the man a sple ndid educa-
tion. Their love for each other is revealed
twit n lie rescues her from a cave whore
fche had been imprisoned by an earth
quake. A'ship is sighted and they light a
beacon to summon it. Langford on his
S’acht, sights the beacon and orders his
yatnt put in The woman recognizes the
yacht and tells her companion that a man
board had injured her in the greatest
tells the man that she had been his mis-
tress and narrowly escapes being killed.
American cruiser appears,
the whole story and
clares that she will marry no one but he:
Island companion. The latter says he stil
loves her but that the revelations lmu
made a change. Katharine declares her In
tention of remaining alone on the island,
saying Charnoek had failed when the test
And then he discovered that h^
Granted bor more than he hftd ever de-
sired her before; that she was more
necessary to him than ever he had
dreamed she would be; that here was
no Question of honor or duty. Indeed
Lut of love, overwhelming, obsessing.
And then he admitted that she was
purity, even holiness itself; that he
had behaved to her like a cur; that
ho had been neither grateful, nor kind,
nor tender, nor loving. He began to
wonder fearfully if, after having
failed so egregiously and terribly,
there was any possible chance that she
could ever care for him again. Fate
had brought her into intimate contact
he realized, with two men. One had
treated her outrageously in the be-
ginning and had nobly made amends,
lie hated Langford, and yet his sense
of justice forced him to admit that he
had played the man at last, while he,
the islander, had treated her. out-
rageously and in the end had played
the fool. Was there a chance that
she would forgive him?
The desire to see her, to plead with
her, to beg her forgiveness—not
a low desire or a base one, he
thanked God — was so great that
he could no longer sustain it.
He rose to his feet and looked out
of the open port hole. The dawn was
griiying the east. Attired as he was
in the loose shirt and trousers in which
he had lain down, which were not un-
like the tunic that he habitually wore;
gave that they were of soft, luxurious
silk, he opened the door of the cabin,
stepped out through the silent ward-
room—he had the natural savage art
of treading without a sound—ran light-
ly up the companion ladder and
stepped upon the deck. The officer of
the watch and his midshipman did not
notice him. Their eyes were else-
where. Ho ran swiftly across tho deck
and stopped nt the gangw ay. A mar-
ine stood there and started forward
as he approached.
"That’s my island,” said the man.
“I'm.going to swim off to it, and I
don't wish to bo followed.”
"It’s a long swim, «ir,” ventured the
marine, scarcely knowing what to do.
He stepped fairly in the gangway
as if to liar the exit.
"it is nothing to me,”said the man.
"Mr. Hopkins!" called the marine,
turning toward the officer of the
"Aye, nye,” came from Mr. Hopkins
as he turned and started forward to
The next moment the man had
seized the marine in a grip which left
him help!'1 lifted him gently out of
the gangway, dropped him carelessly
upon the deck and had flashed through
the air into the water.
By the time Mr. Hopkins reached
the gangway the half-dazed marine
had risen to his feet.
“What is it?”
‘Why, it’s the castaway, sir, the
wild man that we brought asliore to-
“He said he wanted to swim to the
•horn and did not want to be fol-
low . ,i "
"Why didn’t you stop him
"1 did try. sir, but ho picked me up
ns If I had been a baby and throw me
aside and went overboard.
The officer was in a quandary. He
had received no orders to prevent the
xnnn from going out of the ship. He
was not quite sure what his duty was.
At any rate, he turned to the boat-
swain’s mate and bade him call away
a en w for the cutler swinging astern.
He directed the coxswAin to bring the
boat to the gangway and then sent the
midshipmen of the watch below to re-
0, t the r utter to tL• captain find a k
the shore clearly to be seen. The cap-1
tain stared over the side. , He could
make out the man’s head swimming
through the opening in the barrier.
He could see the splash that he made
in his rapid progress through the
‘Mr. Hopkins,” he said, after a mo-
ment’s thought, “tell Mr. Cady—the
midshipman of the watch—to take the
boat and follow after. If the man gets
safely to the shore, they are not to dis-
turb him hut to come back and report
to ine. If, on the contrary, he needs
help, they aii» to take him aboard and
bring him back to the ship.” -
So much time was lost in these vari-
ous maneuvers, however, that when
the order was carried out the boat
bad scarcely reached the entrance to
the barrier when they saw the islander
stepping through the shallow waters
to tho beach. There was, therefore,
nothing for Mr. Cady to do but come
back and report the matter to the cap-
tain. When he 'readied the deck of
the cruiser he found the executive of-
ficer with the chaplain and the sur-
geon who had been summoned from
their berths in consultation with the
captain. By Mr. Whittaker’s advice,
he'and the chaplain were immediately
sent ashore to see what had happened
and what was to be done.
jhere was considerable anxiety in
the minds of the quartet who had
been dealing with the affair heretofore
as to what conditions might be. They
did not know the man. They did not
know what he might be doing, or to
what danger the woman, whom they
all pitied most profoundly, might be
rcxpo*ed. Of all with whom he had
come in contact, the .lieutenant com-
mander and the, chaplain were those
who would have the most influence
over the man of the island, hence they
were dispatched to the island.
Another boat crew was therefore
called away and the two gentlemen
were rowed ashore. It was not yet
sunrise but still sufficiently light to
enable them to proceed. They wore
at a loss at first what to do, for they
had not yet had opportunity for ex-
ploring the island. They had learned
that the cave in whifch the woman
dwelt was upon the other side and
that hills rose between the landing
place and her abode. They knew, of
course, that they could get to it by
following the shores of the island, but
they had a reasonably accurate idea
of its size and they knew' that that
would take a great deal of time. Time
was precious. They were becoming
more and more fearful with every mo-
They decided, therefore, to chance
a direct march over tho hill and across
the island. By great good fortune they
stumbled into the path wiiich was
now sufficiently defined in the grow-
ing light to enable them to follow it.
They climbed the hill as rapidly as
was consistent with the strength of
the chaplain, who was a rather old
man, and then having reached the top
went down the other side almost at a
As they broke out from under the
palm trees, they saw a dark object in
the gray dawn lying upon the sands
at the water’s edge. It was a human
being undoubtedly. As they ran to-
ward it with quickening heart beats
they recognized it as the man. He
was lying motionless ns if he had been
struck dead. In a brief space they
reached him. The lieutenant-com-
mander knelt down by his side and
turned him over upon his back. He
was as senseless as if he had been
smitten with a thunder bolt.
“Is he alive?” asked tho chaplain,
bonding over him.
Mr. Whittaker's hand searched his
"It beats feebly,” he said.
abandoned. Two days past it had re-
sounded with the cries of men scaling
I its heights, crashing through its cop-
pices, calling a name, beseeching an
answer. Two days before great ships
had drifted idly under Its lee. It had
been the center and focus of great
| events. Now it lay desolate, alone.
On that morning the tide which had
drawn 'away ~fVoin°it thr oil gh the long : b°d‘ly Presenoo of the*man. the
night had turned and was coming | °f ,.hl“- Bound ofJjts TOlce.
bacl«. The force of the water spent
the pressure of his lips, the. clasp ol
his arms, she began to realise that as
he grew older, unless she was so ab-
solutely mistaken In him asfto make
itself upon the barrier. Within the
lagoon it lay placid, rising gently inch
by inch in mighty overflow. A watcher,
had there been one, would have seen
at sunrise the still water of the la-
goon broken by a ripple, a keen eye “c““°f h,s act‘°n- a"d lf *e ™re In
might ,.nve noticed at the base of the
cliff where it ran sheer down into tho
all estimate of him mockery,-tie would
realize the falsity of his view, the lit-
love, his years would be oni long re-
gret that he had failed. Vfnnt would
blue, a dark object moving beneath the
i surface. The eye could scarcely have
i become aware of its presence before - — -........—?cr;~.....
the waters parted A little splash and .,£* !£■*
a head rose dark crowned, white faced.
There Was a sidewise wave and shake
.of the head and a pair of exes,opened.
The blue of the water was lightened"
by Hashes of white arms. As the
body rose higher under the Impetus of
strokes, vigorous yet graceful, It
could be seen that it was that of a
With ease and grace the figure
atvarn along the base of the cJifT until
It was joined by'n jutting spit of sand
which widened and widened into a
happen when he realized fijit, when
he came to the knowledgeIthat she
and that lie had been nothbg that he
should ? She knew, ns she had writ-
ten, that the man would ijinrer, could
never, forget her; that vpnerever ho
went and whatever he did, she would
be present with him; tlmt* she had
stumped herself too Indelibly upon his
heart for any attrition with humanity,
however closo and persistent, to erase
the image. He would cojie <back per-
"O Clod!" she lineltf ujwn and
stretched out her arms; "tfring him
great strip of beach that ran around Hack,”. she l>™yed-a fof shbrt, bro*
I o ol-m fV tho anlo/tllonno of
Lying Upon the Sands.
"Well, we must fight for his life
anyway. Do you stay here. I • will
be back In a short time."
The lieutenant-commander rose to
his feet and started back across the
island without another word.
The chaplain composed the mem-
bers of the stricken man, putting him
In a comfortable position on the
warm sand, then knelt down and be-
gan to pray. It seemed a long time to-
the waiting priest before his shipmate
returned, and yet but a short time had
elapsed. He came up panting from
the violence of his exertions.
"I have sent the cutter back for the
surgeon. I told the men to row for
their lives. I gavo the midshipman
in charge an account of what we had
found and begged the captain to send
parties ashore to search tho island.
What of the man?"
“He breathes still,” said the chap-
lain. "I should think he was In some
kind of syncope. His heart evidently
was affected. Ho has had no prepa-
ration for 8uch violent strains. The
things which are usual and ordinary
with us and which, I take it, Indurate
us to tho greater things of life have
been conspicuous by their absence in
his case and he has not been able
to bear up under the sudden shock."
“Those clothes, have you examined
"No,” said the chaplain, "it has been
too dark in the first place, and—”
“I will look at them," said Mr. Whit-
taker. “Perhaps we may find some
new clew in them."
The lieutenant-commander stooped
over the pathetic little heap of worn
garments. There were the blouse, the
the Island. Upon this sand presently
the shallowing of the water gave the
swimmer a foothold. Progress ceased.
With eyes haggard, yet keenly alert,
the sea, the shore, the beach, the
cliffs, tho trees were-eagerly searched.
The long glances revenled nothing.
Then the head was turned and the ear
listened for sounds and heard nothing.
Tho look of apprehension faded Into
one of dull relief.
Walking now, the woman In tho
water made her way toward tho aand.
Very \vhlte she gleamed in tho full
warm light streaming from the risen
on words, lacking the Jeloquence of
long and-studied petition, t^e appeal
of the heart every throp of}which U
a prayer—"bring him baihk (4 me!”
She thought that she wigild have
had him back on any teVms.fShe said
that she had been madf a frfol, not to
have taken him, not t * have gone to
him, not to have marrfed him In any
way, with any conditions!**unddr any
circumstances. All her? thoughts were
merged In one .great ijassipnate long-
ing to be with him. ' • N
For the first tiiiTfe In her life the
pangs of jealousy tote her fireaBt. She
understand. It came too suddenly
upon you. You cannot forget me, but
do not repine over me and remember
to the very last tpat I loved you.
Good-by. May ' God bless ’ you,i.tnd
may he pity me!"
Underneath she had written the Im-
personal name which he had loved to
call her, "Woman.’”
So characteristic was the letter that
that superscription was supererogatory
thought Mr. Whittaker. Only a wom-
an could have written It. She had
gone out of his life, because with her
in it there was no solution of it for
him, because—how pitiful It sounded ^appointment on her face,
there in the gray of that morning in
that lone island to those two men! —
because he did not lovo her. And she
had gone out of it with excuses for
him on her lips and love for him in
her heart. No wonder, that, divining
this . liich he had not seen, realizing
only that she was gone, he had been
stricken as he was.
The doctor arrived presently. lie
ordered .the man, still unconscious, to
bo taken back to the ship where he
would do what he could toward reviv-
ing him and pulling him through this
great and terrible crisis that had come
upon him. The chaplain went with
sun against tlie background of the thought of him in the world with oth-
dark black rock. The water dripping pr men. with otlier :womPn- young,
She pictured him, not happy away
from her, overwhelmed by her death
skirt, the stockings,.and the worn and
torn white shoos. The Hible lay upon
seems to have fainted, collapsed in them as if to weigh them down, and
some strange way. I wish wo had1 they been placed well above the
brought tiie surgeon. I wonder what I reach of the highest tide. The tide
enn be tho cause of it?” was then just coming in to tho island.
"Look!" said the chaplain. The Bible had been opened and laid
He pointed to a little heap of some- ^ilc’e downward on the clothes. Mr.
thing dark on the sands a foot or two) ^ fiittalv r lifted it up reverently. lie
"What is it?" asked the officer.
The chaplain stepped over to it.
"It 14 the clothes of the woman,” he
«;aid in an awe-struck voice, "and that
1 f!»lo we were to take away with us
with the other things but which sho
said she would give us in the morn-
“Great heaven,” exclaimed Mr.
Whittaker, “you don’t think—”
At the same instant the same
thought had conic to both men.
“It looks like it,” said the chaplain
with hated breath. “Poor woman,
may God help her!"
“That Is what Is the matter with! out.”
him," returned the lieutenant-corn- "Man,
mander. ‘‘He has sought her in her ;
cave and hns not found her. He has
discovered those things nnd he knows j
that phe is gone. The shock has al-
most killed him."
“What is to be done now?”
Here the man of action interposed. j
“Do you watch by him, chaplain."
said the lieutenant-commander, rising.
“I will go back to the landing upon
the other side and send for the doc-
tor. Then we will bring a party j
ashore and search every foot of tho
observed as lie did so that his own
pencil, which ho had left, ho now re-
membered, with the woman, lay be-
leaves between the Old and New tes-
taments something was written. No
mention of any writing had been
made in the affidavit of tho night be-
fore. He lifted it, turned his back
toward tho east where the sun was
Just on the verge of rising, and stud-
ied it out.
“Do you find anything?” asked the
“There is writing on this page,” said
the younger man. “1 can just make it
he read slowly, studying
ench word in the dim light, "I loved
you. In one sense, In'your sense, I
was unworthy of you, perhaps, but
not in mine. You alone had my heart.
The past was a frightful mistake for
which I should not be blamed, but for
which I must suffer. I tried you with
the world by your side. The world
was kind, but you were not. You
broke my soul nnd killed something
within me which I had thought dead,
but which you had revived. No power
could revive it again. I cannot marry
from her exquisitely graceful limbs, j handsome, a perfect godlike form nnd
she looked a very nymph of tho sea ns face of man. rich, the-wildest romance
slip stepped out at last above the high | with Its charm and mystery to attract,
-tide line and stood poised ns If for »la Rtor>’ cou,d not l,e bld. neither
'flight upon the hard and solid shore I hors. The man would be court.
Again She threw about her that quick. «<>«*'■' after, made much over, be-
apprehensive look. Again she paused : J°vcd. It would be enough to turn the
to listen. Unassured in that she heard »<‘a(1 <>* »°w would he stand
And saw nothing but the turd's song, »»» Would the Motion of her
the wind's sigh, the wave's Splash, ah- 1"11 s,r°n'\? * «uld that God In
ran swiftly toward a blacker opening whom he and she both had trusted
in the dark rock She gleamed whiter >*« «*'" 8 C“m6.’ 1?ad ,“lm„in he
still in ......intranco tor a moment 'ht *>ath; Would her purity, her
and then dlsa........ d. She came forth -*<•*"■ would he think her
presently still unclothed, a look of <hua doworod and possessed? No
4 I now, certainly, but every nour that
, took him farther from her would add
She had many things to do, much | )o liMowU,,Ke nnd wouW tell him
to occupy her mipd but the first duty tn|th and the90 wouId hlnl.
that lay to her hand and the first in- ]
stinct which she followed was that [
her nakedness should be covered. 1 ,, , ,
Still warily watchful, still keenly Rltrely- B!lddefd bcyond presoIn‘ <'om'
alert, sfill fearful apparently of Inter- U mu«t be. yet so occupied that
ruption or observation, she ran across imensihly his Brief would be light-
the beach, her movement ns free, as "'‘<‘d by tho only thing after all that
graceful, as rapid ns she lmd been makes life bearable in certain con-
Alabama herself, and disappeared un-1 tingencles, and that Is work. Work!
der the trees. The whirr of birds dis-1 Bhe- t0°- had work t0 do' ’
turbed might havo marked her pass- roso *° kcr f°°f doggedly as she
thought of that nnd considered what
After some time sue appeared on s*10 could do. Her eyes fell upon thf
, the top of the high bare hill* that asbes of the signal fire. She contoin*
him. conceiving his duty to he In at crown(,, thf, ,slan(1 sh„ ,,ad ln)]ir„ , plated it as the specter of some Hindu
tendance upon the living rather than . . , _ r()v,.rine out of woman whose body had been burned
searching for the dead. ! ™r,0“ea? fern leaved soft 'Ton such an affair might look upon
The captain, with the other officers, l and pjjni,le. which she fastened with h"r P>T0- It was sho who had lighted
,ou men to t■ t•1 ' poim fibers from shoulder to knee on beacon Herhand hftd called tie-
island was systematically searched. It I,,.,. i,nri, Khnnlricra i-ialne . world to her side. She thought how
was all open. There was no place of | the 'rlfl. gre^nnew Ilk” white He had begged her not to do so, how
concealment, but not a foot of it was j coro]Ia frorn n„ verdant calyx. • Kite Ho had declared himself content and
j left unvisited. Again and again the ! U(;n| assuredly ' now party be-, happy lo livo with her alone—the
j men traversed the island. Tlu y found ; (>aug0 of fhP'fart that sho was clothed world forgetting, by the world forgot!
nothing, absolutely nothing. THc j and • ,„.r:lusc. i„,r lirst riipJd s„r. For the first time she broke down
woman had vanished and left no trace. ! of (h'(, llul i/r)n rcVealed the fact completely. She burled her face in
In the search, and made quite fran- j tha.t the ships were gone. She was Her hands, her body reeled and shook
; tic by tiie necessity.of it, I.angford p-]j" that tills was so and yot when 'v''h sobs, the tears trickled through
Indeed, he would hot be per- ,,. ,. ,,,r ' i.• . lev It v :
suaded that the woman ho had treated qung h« rsrlf down or. the gr.msy < rest She must make another beacon, she
so badly, whom ho had hunted so do-, an(j Kavf» v ay t0 Voic«d»* s agony, thought* Aud.th'-n it came to her that
Sometimes there is nothing so tor- ‘ they had taken away the flint and
rtblo, she realized, as prayer granted, - steel. . She had no means of lighting It.
as desire accomplished, as imdcrtak- I hat realization developed other
ing brought to conclusion. The usv- thoughts. Her Bible was gone; her
fulness of success was upon her In clothes were gone; her toilet articles,
to establish, if-bo be it w^re possible, that hour. Her ruse had worked. Tier h* r scissors, her wratch, her knife.
f » I
also the hones of hU mother, not for*; achievement gave her no pleasure. left her nothing, absolutely nothing,
getting what remained ol tho faith* j per ow n acts had parted her irrev-
I ful dog, which tho captain caused to ocably forever from 11. • • world and chapter xxi i.
exhumed from the ruined boat, as the one imin in it wllo Was the world
night fell the Cheyenne steamed away for jl0r. He was gone. She who'had Unavailing Appeak
| to the northeast, followed not long madfi him had BeIJt him forth Among slept late the next morning, la
I after by tho Southern .Cross. The two j,is follow sho had saerifi» « d hei the first place I" lng upon the western
j vessels went slowly, as if the souls a(ljf t)urjo(l herself alive for him. She side of the island, there was no flood-
I that animated them were reluctant to ’ as a mother might who experl- ing hurst of sunlight through tho open
leave the gemlike island where they (in(.r,s i)jrti, pa,itra and knows that door to disturb her quiet slumber. In
I had chanced upon so much that was v>,t jj f,V(,rv t^rol, of tearing anguish Hie second place she was so worn out
idyllic, so much that was romantic; lier mvn jjfo (d)hs nwav passes*into iir,d exhausted, she had had so little
and where they had seen so great a lhe new jitl. w|1|c]1 R)u, ,miu.rH jnto the sleep in the past three days that 1 in-
ter mined iy, whom he had loved so
truly, who had rejected him finally,
was dead, but even he gave up at last.1
Taking with them tho evidence to
substantiate tine woman’s affidavit and i
trnr-'dy of misfortune and despair. | worM and giVPS ,0 mpn.
H- low in the cabin, under the care siie lmd loi. ? hours tor thought In
of the surgeon and chaplain, lay tho tl)oae two dnvs in that cavn Whose
! islander In tho frightful throes of a moutt, (|l0 waters hid. Sho had
racking fever of the bruin. He bub- schooled herself to face light and life
Hied of the woman nnd knew not without him when sho emerged from
| where he was or whither be was belutf her cunning hiding plan. She had
island. It is a bad business. To think : Langford, for I do not love him. 1 will
of that woman nlTerlng herself to this
nmn in vain. The fool!"
"Don't," said the chaplain. "He is
not much more than u child Ir ^ite
\shby, ns It happened, was I of nil that hq has learned. We must
entile on deck Immediately make allowances for hint. Ho did love
not marry you. for you do not love me.
I will not go back to the world now.
1 have no desire to do so and I cannot
live alone with you upon the iHlund.
You will not go without me, nnd so I
V | ;• , fir: t by I > r-" . I
In ills p.ijun.na and received confirms- hrr, evidently. Look to what her hr
• Ion of tie midshipman * extraordinary hnn brought hint. Perhaps stricken by world. Perhaps you will judge your-
story n thi watch offlt ir U tht hand ol God hla toul has gune out seif bar taljr, but I do not judge you
iigl.t cuotigh now for the water* and | to meet hers." | ut alb You did nut know, you did not
waited the long period in order
make absolutely certain that
I would ho gone. And yet, dcspft
I stlf, a little gleam of hope, a bare pos-
The Resurrection, siblilty that he might be there still,
The little island lay quiet ami fitill had lingered in her soul nnd leavened
under the rising sun. No footfall the nwiulm \ of her gr • f. Now it
i pressed its bosky glades, beneath tho w. n gune. It had sunk beneath the
: hadowB fcf its spreading palms, no hu- I oi ' M even a the ship* 1 ol disstp-
mun being sought shelter from the poured. She had been bitter against.
• r.uu’a fierce rays, no words were him. Her soul had revolted bemuse
echoed back from its Jutting crags, no he* hud fulled. She h id told lo r - It
figures flashed across its shining that, he was not worthy of her. Sho
1 sands. Soundless it lay save for tho loir' t these things in that profound
! cry of the bird and tho rustle of the pud desolate moment. She knew only
! gentle wind across Its hills. For well* that sho loved him. When she could
I nigh UO years it hud not been so think uji other things than he, the
perative nature forced her into rest.
Sho might have slept longer Indeed,
but that she was awakened by a great
cry, a human voice calling her name.
She opened her eyes and saw within
thy dimness of the cave a human fig-
ure, vaguely white in the .darkness.
For one fleeting instant sho imagined
they ihat it might bo lie, hut that hope
In r was dispelled as quickly ns It had
b'-en born. Siie recognized ,thu voice.
It was Langford’s.
“Kate,” he said approaching her
more nearly and bending over her,
"are you alive then?”
He reached down and touched her
hand wh»to it lay across the fern
leaves on her lueast. Ills touch sum-
molted her bewildered faculties to so-
le, ilit sat
“It la I,” she said.
"You are alive and 'veil,?"..
pro 1113 CUMIN UlliUJk
•ir - • ■
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The Okarche Times. (Okarche, Okla.), Vol. 19, No. 40, Ed. 1 Friday, February 3, 1911, newspaper, February 3, 1911; Okarche, Oklahoma. (gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc859247/m1/7/: accessed December 13, 2018), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.