Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1921-08-26
CHAPTER v-continued.

Then came pun or Wn1Le SMOKE
and a report from one of the More
land rifles, then shots from both sides
and the battle was on. Dale heard
the nasty whine of bullet in full
flight; he heard the coarse "zzz' of a
half-spent ricOchet. He knew that he
was in some danger now, and he was
surprised to find that he was, not
frightened.
When he halted again it was on HIS
knees behind the big white sycamore
that sheltered John Moreland.
Back, are yep frowned the noun
taineer. And with the grimmest hui
NOR, 81 reckon We had fire, large
time in Cincinnaty. Yore friend Har-
ris was we'll, l hope. Git that money
grom him?"
'Cut that out" said Bill Dale. 1T
doesn't get us anywhere"
A bullet threw particles of sycamore
bark to his face, interrupting. John
Noreland pointed to green furrow in
the side of the tree.
"Ben Littleford hisself," said More
Eand. He's ahind O. that water oak
acrost thar. Don't stick yore head
out !"
The mountaineer turned his gaze
over Dales shoulder, and his counte-
nance seemed to freeze. Dale looked
around quickly and saw Babe Little
ford, less than ten feet behind him
She had crept up through the tall
grasses and weeds. In one hand she
carried white flag made of a mans
handkerchief and a willow switch. She
halted and sat up.
Babel Dale CRED out. what are
you doing hereY
Babe gave him a pale smile. 'Ef
pap'd shoot me, a-think1n' was a
Moreland, mebbe it'd stop the ever
l0stin' tightin'," she said.
John MOreland stared, and Bill Dale
stared. They were in Presence, and
they knew it. Babe went on:
i've come to save all o. yore lives !;
bnt eff l do it, yell hat to make yore
5ren quit a-fightin' right now-jest or
der 'em to stop a-shootin', and hold
up this here-and l promise We on a
Littleford's word at pap'll call We a
better man an him cause We done
ia"
She tossed the white flag to him.
'"Che' amt no time to lose, John More
lsnd; hold up the flag! Eff We don't,
ye'll every one be killed, cause ye're
every one in a trap!"
II don't believe We, Babe!' snapped
the Moreland chief ''Yore people can
hold up a white rag jest as well as
we cant"
Babe went paier. There was a sud-
den burst Of firing from the Moreland
rifles, and she crept a little nearer to
John Moreland in order that he might
hear plainly that which she had to tell
aim next.
'Xln a-goin' to tell We o. this dam
ger" she said, land trust to you a-bein'
man enough to do what | axed We to-.
Black Adam Ball, he's got a new-fash-
toned rifle and snokeless a'tridges
aad steel bullets; and in few min
uGes he'll be hid in clum o. sassafras
back thar in yose meadow, whar he
means to set and pick off you More
lends one by one-aEd you and Bill
Dale Hust, count o. the beatin's you
two put on him. But pap had nothin'
to do with it, and riekoIleet that Now
i've saved ali O. yore lives, cause We
couldn't ha' heerd the sound o. his rifle
yS all o. this noise; and ye couldn't
la seed the smoke o. his gun, cause
81 don't make no smoke. Hold up the
white Tag, John Moreland-hurry p
Babe thoGghtlessly arose to her feet.
aad one side OF Der brown head an
peared before the sights Of her fathers
rlIie-her father fired quickly, too
Quickly for a perfect aim-the bullet
burned its way across her temple and
through her hair, and she crumpled at
Bill Dale's knees, totally unconscious.
Dale gave a hoarse cry and gathered
her limp figure into his arms. John
Moreland waved aloft the white hand
kerchief and beloved to his kinsmen
90 stop firing. Then silence came,
Come over here, Ben Littleford ~
shouted John MoreIand. we've shot
gore own gyrulw
And to his brother Abner, whose
right forearm was wrapped in a blood
Stained blue bandana:
BLACK Adam is hid som'eres in this
mcaG1w go and ketch him, and don't