The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-12-05
GLITTER M. The Trailer TraiIpd,

well, I reckin a few hours with the buzzards ain't goin' to hurt his charter none"
 Stfmer turned and walked slowly back.
 When the approached the cabin he found Sheriff Powell. Sam Cook, Bud Peters, and a stranger, the officer from Arkansas, waiting for him.
 Hello, Stimer,'' called the sheriff tn greeting. "You haven't seen B1n Duncan roun' we're this mornin'? We struck his trail over in the river. He's headed this way.''
 ''Yes, I seen i'm. Reckin you'n find i'm down in the canon. He slipped up an tried to rope me thss mornin', am I winged i'm as he's runnin' off,
 What you been dofn' to yer face, Simmer" asked Peters curIousIy
 ''Uh-uh-Duncan kinda - kinda scratched me up.'
 Bud burst into a big laugh.
 Come on men, urged Powell. Lets go fer Duncan while the trails hot. Sinner, you can consider yerseIf under arrest tiu we get back" he flung over his shoulder. a grim smile on his face.
 An hour later the posse returned. They hitched their horses and stalk ed soberly into the room.
 'WeH. you did good job, Stimer," said Powell when the men were seat ed. Duncan was dead"
 IT killed i'm in seIf-defense," of- fered Stimer a-prehensively.
 'Shore-gIad you did. T. i'll save me a lot of trouble. But you know there'H be the formaiIity of the law. Tell us how it happened.''
 Stimer related briefly the Incidents fOllgvEiv1cr n .+,-,- at RUth's up to uhe final tragedy.
 IT could have Miss Ruth an Tom fer witnesses ?' he ended
 Yes, if you need 'em," said the sheriff briefly.
 'Yere's some thing we found on Duncan" he went on, drawing on on- cloth case from his pocket He open ed it on the table. There were some worn discOlOred papers, and roll or bills. Powell counted them care fully. 'Ninety-two hundred dollars" he announced. Duncan made A pretty good haul Must "a been az least ten thousand when he got is hands on lem" he commented.
 This must "a been his sweetheart" sad Peters. taking a photograph from an envelope. He handed the picture to Powell.
 Stimer leaned over and glanced at it. He started up, agitated.
 Why - why that's my pitcher that's the pitcher of my mother -''
 Powell looked at him questioningIy.
 "Howd'd Duncan git it?"
 How did he2' said stirner stupfdlv.
 He stepped across to the trunk and searched among some papers. He turned holding the picture he had shown Tom staring bIankIy
 ''NO-yere's my pitcher - but they're jest alike"
 Powell took the photograph from his hand and placed 1t by the side Of the other. He bent over and read: For my son Robert, from his mother" He turned to the other and scanned the written line: ''Haancy Olds to Thomas Porter"
 Then he sat back thoughtfuIIy, h-s hand on his beard. The men waited expectantly.
 ''Stimer," he began sober1-, after n silence. ''Hlaybe Duncan done won a favor after all. OF man VFhaley was yer father. His right name was Por- ter This woman was his wife-an' yer mother. have a document r1 my office. which. with these pictures. will prove it. An an there's a Tor tune of twenty thousand dollars waitin' fer you in Kansas - vou-re Robert Porter--the boy that run away from the StUckys''
 Damn the Stuckys." stin7er ex- pIoded.
 Well. I'll go. Poweu,'' said Cook, rising, breaking the silence. "Tm goin' over to Smiths ranch I ain't never toF you. Powell. but my names