The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-11-28
CHATTER ]. Pretty as a Pitcher


 a dozen shtnties and two windIAllis' .r-a- z-1trrea and screaked to the mood Of the wind. It stood on an eH1i-- rence overlooking Red River. and was the terminus of the stage line from NEltcnita-
 Two men sat in the shade of the store raziuG out to The plains that biIIcwed to the door. They were strangers. but in the brief space or five minutes, the measure Of theI contact. a secret anra gonisiu had flashed between them, which eacn wondered at and sought to conceal.
 Amt en bout we're lonG2
 The speaker, a man of thirty, tall, thin. with a heavy black beard and furtivc. bead like eyes, began to roll a cigarette.
 NO" said the other. He turned slowly and looked at the stranE ap- praisiugIy. He was an older man, blond ra a.her stocEy, smooth shay eH, and in his eyes was the expression one sometimes sees in the eyes of those obsesed with a single idea or purpose q work over at FIoyds"
 Where you from2'
 "vicchita Come from Arkansaw a year ago.
 Well world ain't so big after all. I'm from Tennessee. jest across the river. Seems we'z neighbors?
 "Yes. My name is Cook-sam Cook"
 They touched hands gfngerly, their eyes meeting in a shifting glance
 I'm Bill Duncau.' announced the other. "I work on Sugg's Ranch over fn the Territory"
 "Ain't never been in Arkansaw2''
 Duncan hesitated a minute
 ''No."
 A man stepped out of the store. his spurs rattIng against the boards ana =at down on the steps.
 Well. homhress, this is sure one fine day" he said cheerfully. Makes a feler feel like settin' in the shade with a fishin' pole instead of puIin' foolish cows outeu the bog. How's he quicksand over the river, Dun, can ?''
 "Pretty bad. suggs done lost sev-raI head"
 ''Weu. the worst's over, I guess, less there comes mother rise"
 The man rose and stared down the road.
 Wonder comes or muttons.'' he said resuming his seat.
 An old man with flowing gray beard and hair. a cane in his hand, hobtled toward them.
 Who is it?' asked Duncan.
 "OP Whaley. Been suuattin' we're on the river fore the Indians quit depredatiu'. Use to have sheep. They say he got a pile of money from the government for the muttons the In dtans stole I guess that's what hes Twin on now. Reg'Iar miser. Yere he comes waIkin' five miles for sup plies-too stingy to keep a horse -" ''Where's he live? ?''
 "Ovpys toward TN- 0yrl7'e in a E771-O-l+ He's bout on his last legs. Some mornin' he's going to wake ID an find hisselt dead. as the Scripchers say"
 He rose and walked toward his horse.
 "'Good morntn'. MT. WhaIey." he called cordially as he passed the old man.
 WhaIey stopped haItinEIv and turn d stiffIy toward the speaker.
 "He'heIlo. Peters" he said in a thin nrac1-ed voice. Liked to not a know cd you -''
 I'm droppin' over to see you fore long flung the other friendly putting spurs to hls pony. ''Ycs-yes-do,' the old man sDut- tered. surprised. staring at the van ishtng horseman. He turned and hohbIed to the store lie men eyed nm CuFlOuS-N. put soon lost interest as the chatter of hoofs and a cloud of dust up the road announced a new arrival A girl of twenty ga-loped up to th hi-chfrg post. threw the. reins over the nony's head. and sprang to the ground. She wore a blue calico dress freshly ironed. and a wide brImmed straw hat sun-tanned and battered with usaE. But a fine color glowed in her cheeks, her eyes sparkIed. and a mass Of rich. bronze-b-ack hair fell about her face and shoulders An artist might have seen in her a sym hol 9f a night in June. She stepped into the door, nodding to the men as she passed.
 Pretty as a pitcher comnented Duncan.
 He rose and entered the store
 \ sCowl on his face. Cook walked to his horse. mounted and rode away.
 Duncan EouEht a cigar and. lean ing against a show case. followed the slim figure of the girl s she moved