The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1923-11-15

eve-"an' | mostly agrees with EN- an
saws amen to 'em, an the new parson
NAV be all 'e's cracked up to be, but
stilI | amt takin' back n%othin'."
Zeke's thin voice ceased, lost some
where in the cavernous labyrinth of
his sharp, inquisitive nose.
Uncle Nick prodded down the con
fonts of his pipe with his finger and
smoked a while in silence. Taking the
stem from between his lips after a
time. he blew the smoke away. slowly,
as if to get the full taste of it, and
waved the pipe across toward the
nostmaster-a well understood prelimi-
nary to a renewal of the argument.
AT the moment Loge Belden took a
gulp from his bottle of squirrel put
the cork in, slapped it tight and
slouched up along the counter.
"Say. I'd just like t put one t that.
This evenin' as l come up the River
road past this hyur Warhope home
stead an Sine Collins house, | stopped
q LITTLE bit on the bridge acrost Eagle
run an happened t. look over in the
orchid b'twixt OF Shines an the par
sonage. Y'u know theirs a spring
along the crick thar under the edge o.
the hill, an theirs a bench t set on
under the maple tree by the spring.
"Well, as l come a-past, thar set this
bvur new parson an that Texie gal
on that bench, an as near as l could
make out, bein' purity well along
tow'rds dark, he had lis arm around
'er. You fellers r. wastin' a lot O.
breath on that gal. low the par
SON"
The room suddenly was deadly still,
with every eye turned toward the door.
Belden felt the stiffness; hesitated
turned
In the open door, framed in sharp
outline against the dark background
of the nightfall, stood the tall form
of Jack Warhope.
Belden grinned oddly; muttered a
word or two; leaned against the coun-
fer and looked down at the floor.
With the reach and spring that only
the woods and hills a give, Warhope
walked into the room.
81 low y'u must "a been mistook
about that-arm."
"Not a d-n bit"
Like lightning came the sharp
smack of an open hand that famed
Belden's head back. He leaped away
from the counter and struck-a good
smashing swing, clean from the hip.
but it didn't land.
It was apparent that Belden had a
high opinion of his ability as a rough
and tumble fighter, for he stepped
right in and mixed it fast and furi-
ous-the whirlwind give and take of
the mountains. The man he faced
ducked or sidestepped or dashed aside
everything Belden had, and came back
with an occasional jab that was mad
dening.
Belden lost his temperate mistake
of many a better man-and lunged
viciously. He ran into an uppercut to
the chin that doubled him back over a
barrel Of salt. He whirled up, and
his right hand clawed the butt of a
pistol out of his packet.
The pistol came out, but that was
all. A heavy six-gun leaped from the
woodsman's side, a bullet crashed into
the pistol butt, gashed Belden's hand
slightly and tore on into the salt
barrel.
The woodsman stuck the six-gun
back into the holster at his hip, hid
den by his hunting blouse, snatched
Belden by the collar and ierked him
out into the middle Of the floor.
Il low y'u must "a ben mistook
about that arm"
Belden's small beady eyes burned
like hot copper as he wrung his hand.
He cursed the pain; swallowed hard
finally muttered.
"The light werdn't none too dern'
good. | low | nus "a"
The woodsman dropped the others
collar, talked a moment or so with
Uncle Nick and Counterman about tfie
SEEMING trip next day-the matter that
had brought him into the store-and
passed out at the door. The crowd
gathered around Belden.
Uncle Nick picked up the broken
pistol and stuck it back, muttering as
he examined the gashed hand.
"Y'u ort "a had more sense than t
pull on him. He amt no ways spry
on talk, but he can pick hick'ry nuts
with a s~ix-gun.'