Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1916-05-05

Will lnulScbLlOhs
With that remark he opened his sam
pie case and exhibited, cleyerly con-
fined by straps and bands In the vari-
GUS compartments. an array of toilet ar
ticles such as the riders of the Twin
Star outfit had never gazed upon, such
as they did not dream existed.
"The refinement of perfect cleanli-
ness can be attained by purchasing one
Of our combination boxes began the
stranger in a silky, purring voice that
he seemed to put on with the opening
of the case. This box contains toilet
requisites for a year-shaying sticks,
safety razor, powder, hair restorer
(any color you might wish, freckle To-
ton. tooth powder, toothbrush, nail
files, nail polish and corn plasters, bay
rum, cologne water and any perfume
Won wish-a six ounce bottle In every
| combination box. There are also toilet
soap, bath soap and bath powder
and
"Stop!' moaned Mason Pepper faint
ly. "If l should put ON all that there
scented stuff I'd be shot out of Red
Spider. l like a good, clean, healthy
smell of tobacco"
"And l." murmured Mr.. Golf re-
luctantly, 81 like to wash myself with
soap and be clean, but l sure dislike
to advertise to my loving friends every
time l perform my ablutions, which
means just plain washing up" he
added.
"You are not obliged to buy scented
SOAP" urged the stranger patiently.
"I'ye got a plain, unscented soap that
you might like"
"I'm particularly looking for eyelash
restorer,' explained Tony earnestly.
1--WE had trouble with falling eye
lashes ever since l had that terrible
scare In Wildcat canyon"
The stranger shiyered a little and
glanced over his plump shoulder at the
darkness behind.
"Wildcat canyon-that sounds rather
dubious" he said, with a sickly smile.
IT hope it doesn't lie along the road
back to town."
"It's still there, right alongside the
trail to Red Spider" said Tony heart
lessly, "but it amt to be feared now
the way it used to be when Satan
Peterby lived he%reabouts."
The salesman started at the name.
"Satan PeterbyT he questioned.
"Who is he?"
Tony settled back to enjoy himself.
Before he made reply he rolled another
cigarette and lighted it le%isurely. When
his sardonic smile was wreathed In
smoke he proceeded to enlighten the
nervous stranger.
Satan Peterby was a daredevil cow
boy who used to be the terror of Red
Spider. When he was good he was ter
ribly mild and good and just like the
little girl in the rhyme-he wouldn't
play poker them times or drink any
thing except plain sody water, which
same Is like soapsuds If you ever tasted
it.; he wouldn't shoot up the town as
was his custom now and then, and
nowadays there amt SO many Red
S~piderites going around with clipped
ears and holes in their hat crowns as
there used to be in the days Of Satan
Peterby.
when Satan was good he was most
uncommon dull, but his companions
didn't mind him. He was their idol;
idle and lazy, too, II you don't mind a
pun, stranger!
But when Satan Peterby was on the
warpath-whoopee! Look out; there
was something doing all the time, and
poor Satan didn't know what he'd done
till the day after it was all over. Some
times he'd be up before a coroner's
jury trying to explain about several
corpses that was ornamenting the
streets of Red Spider, and once he was
assisting at a lynching bee-chief per-
former, so to speak-but he got away
somehow.
"Oh, yes, he's seen around these parts
now and then, else it's his spook.
That's how l lost my eyelashes. I was
riding along the edge Of Wildcat can
yon n night-just about such a night
as this, only an hour later, 1t was
when, pop, out Of the thicket there,
comes a wild eyed little man-that was
Satan Peterby, thank you"
The stranger uttered a startled bleat
and closed his sample case.
"Was that long ago?" he asked fear
fully.
MI. Golf surveyed his comrades with
inquiry in his dancing eyes.
Seems like 1t was most two weeks
ago." he said ~reminiscently. "Boys,
wasn't it two weeks ago that we saw
the last of Satan Peterby?"
ut sure was" agreed Mason Pepper,
rolling over and propping his chin In
his cupped palms. "I1l never forget
the sight of you standing against that
cottonwood tree, Tony, and Satan using
you for q target"
"a target?" repeated the stranger
weakly.
Tony Golf nodded and took up the
story.
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