Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1921-08-05

ut sounds funny to hear man talk
O. sech little things as vi'lets," she de-
clared. "Most O. men don't think o.
and eatin'. I'm a little mad at you!
went home yesteday-and / think
run might nigh the whole six mile
and fixed up dinner fo' you, cause
understood you was a-comin' to our
house-and you went to them low
| down Morelands!"
II beg pardon" he said contritely;
didn't know you were especially ex-
necting me. had business" he added,
with John Moreland."
There came to his ears from some
where down the river the chorus of
a rakish old hill song, and the voice
was that of the lanky moonshiner, By
| Heck
"Oh, when l die, don't-a bury me deep,
| Put no tombstone at my head and feet,
| Put bears jawbone in my right hand
| On my way to the Promised La-a-and,
| Oh! On my way to the Promised
Land!"
A few minutes later there appeared
on the Moreland side of the river the
singer of the rakish old song; he had
a minnow pail in one hand and white
hickory rod in the other.
Hi, thar, Bill, old boy!" he yelled.
Hi, thar, Babe! Either of ye'uns
ketched anything?"
Ben Littleford's daughter held up
| fish proudly. Heck slapped his thigh
with his SLOUGH hat.
Good 70 you'll" he exclaimed. 'But
they amt a-bitin' jest right. The
moons wrong, and the signs is wrong,
fo' fishin'.'
At that instant John Moreland ap-
peared at Heck's side. He seemed very
serious about something.
'Bill Dale" he called, "come over
here"
Wondering, Dale put down his rod
and turned to obey. Two minutes later
he stood before John Moreland.
II jest wanted to tell ye," and the
mountaineer almost closed one alert
grey eye, "'at ye're purity shore to
git into trouble over thar"
turned smilingly.
"You shore are," frowned Moreland,
"but mebbe you amt used to burned
hard fightin'."
+ Not used to hard fighting! Dales
smile broadened. Once he had whipped
heavyweight pugilist; and he had
fought as a matter Of principle, and
not for money or prestige.
Moreland suddenly jerked one thumb
toward the other side of the stream.
Dale looked and saw, standing beside
Babe Littleford, quite formidable
man. He had the height and BREADTH
almost, of a Goliath. He was black
eyed and black-haired. and his thick
short beard was curled like the hair
between a BULBS horns. In one hand
he carried repeating rifle as lightly
as though it were mere straw.
One of his great arms suddenly
Strengthened toward Dale, and voice
as gruff as the growl of bear said
hotly:
s.'What was you a-doin here a-talkin'
to my gyurl?"
/ Babe Littleford looked angry. Dale
flushed, then went pale.
Il have a habit of talking with
whom l please" he said evenly.
Spoke like man." drawled the
lanky Heck in a very low tone.
Goliath of the hills stared unbeliev-
ingly. Dale said in an undertone to
John Moreland: rs it that Ball fell
lowY'
"Yes," answered the hillman; "it's
Black Adam Ball."
Ball dropped his rifle to the
violets, slowly clenched his huge and
hairy hands, and thrust his bearded
jaw out aggressively.
II dare We over here, We pink cow
ard !" he challenged.
IF you have any business with me-,
come over here and transact it," Dale
retorted 81 won't run"
That's Moreland TERRITORY" Ball
objected. "But I'll meet We half way,