Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1913-07-11

and houses. Thus comes the ''norther,"
dousing gentle spring and amlaple au-
tumn with the chilling salutes ana
adieus of coming and departing win
ter.
Curly followed his nose down the
first tortuous street into which his IRE
sponsible feet conducted him. Al the
lower end of it, on the bank or the ser
pentine stream, he perceived an open
gate in a cemented rock wall. Inside
he saw campfres and q row or low
wooden sheds built against three sizes
of the inclosing wall. He entered the
Enclosure. Under the sheds many
horses were champing at their oats anu
corn. Many wagons and buckDoarus
stood about with their teams harness
thrown carelessly upon the shafts anu
doubletrees. Curly recognized the place
as a wagon yard, such as is provided
by merchants for their out OF town
friends and customers. No one was III
sight. No doubt the drivers OF those
wagons were scattered about the town
f'seeing the elephant and hearing the
owl" In their haste to become pa
irons Of the towns dispensarles OF
mirth and good cheer the last ones TO
depart must have left the great wood
en- gate swinging open.
Curly had satisfied the hunger of an
anaconda and the thirst of camel, so
he was neither in the mood nor the
condition of an explorer He zigZagged
his way to the first wagon that his eye
sight distinguished in the semldark-
ness under the shed. 1t was a two
horse wagon with top Of white can
vas. The wagon was half filled with
loose piles of wool sacks, two or three
great bundles of gray blankets and
number of bales, bundles and boxes.
A reasoning eve would have estimated
the load at once as ranch supplies,
bound on the morrow for some Outly-
ing hacienda But to the drowsy intel
ligence of Curly they represented only
warmth and sOftness and protection
against the cold humidity of the night.
After several unlucky efforts at last he
conquered gravity SO far as to climb
over a wheel and pitch forward upon
the best and warmest bed he had
fallen upon in many day. Then he
became instinctively a burrowing ami
NAL and dug his way like prairie dog
down among the sacks and blankets,
hiding himself from the cold air as
snug and safe as a bear in his den.
For three nights sleep had visited Cur
ly only in broken and shivering doses.
So now, when Morpheus condescended
to pay him a call, Curly got such
strangle hold on the NEUROLOGICAL old
gentleman that it was wonder that
any one else in the whole world got
wink of sleep that night
Six coWpuncherS of the CibolO ranch
were waiting around the door of the
ranch store. Their ponies cropped
grass near by, tied in the Texas fash
ion-which is not tied at all. Their
bride reins had been dropped to the
earth, which is more effectual way
of securing them (such is the power OF
habit and imagination than you could
devise out of a half inch rope and a
live oak tree.
These guardians of the COW lounged
about, each with a brown cigarette pa
per in his hand and gently but unceas-
ingly cursed Sam Revell, the store
keeper. Sam stood in the door, snap
ping the red elastic bands on his pink
madras shirt sleeves and looking down
affectionately at the only pair of tan
shoes within forty mile radius. His
offense had been serious, and he was
divided between humble apology and
admiration for the beauty of his raj
ment. He had allowed the ranch
stock Of smoking" to become eX-
hausted
II thought sure there was another
case of it under the counter, boys" he
explained. But it happened to be
catterdges."
you've sure got case of happenedi-
citis." said Poky Rodgers. fence rider
of the Largo Verde potrero. Some
body ought to happen to give you a
knock on the head With the butt end
of a quirt. I've rode in nine miles for
some tobacco, and it don't appear nat
uraI and. seemly that you ought to be
allowed to live"
THE boys was smokin' cut plug and
dried mesquite leaves mixed when
left" sighed Mustang Taylor, horse
wranger of the Three Elm camp
They'll be lookin' for me back by 8
They'll be settin' up. with their papers
ready to roll q Whit of the real thing
before bedtime. And I've got to tel
'em that this pink eyed, sheep headed
sulphur footed. shirt wasted son OIL
a calico broncho, Sam Revell, hasn't
got no tobacco on hand
Gregorio Falcon, Mexican vaquerC
and best thrower of the rope on the
Cibolo pushed his heavy, silver EN-
broidered straw sombrero back upor
his thcket of jet black curls, and
scraped the bottoms of his pockets fol
o few crumbs Of the precious weed.
.'Ah, Don Samuel" he said, reproach