Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1924-02-07

ain HOneln 1T no more, I'm bettfn'
M bottom dollar e amt"
Il dunno" Counterman pursued.
Hes a bad lot. Their amt a worse
man the length o. the Wabash. An
then there's Loge Belden they say
moved in the oil cabin up Eagle boiler
last week with is sister.
Observation-Disclosures amt no more a
wood chopper than be. He's a river
man. Come f'om the K'ntucky noun
tains In the FIRST place, an usesn t be
a pearl fisher till they run I'm ofsn
the river. | never knowed Loge, that
Is. what y'u might say pers'n1y. I
never seed i'm till e tangled with Big
Jack in the post office t other evenin',
but ! knowed is sister. not the one
that's with Inn now but the-other
one-the one that's-dead-"
The fisherman bent his head and his
voice fell low. finally stopped.
BLACK Bogus Is an old pal O.
/ Loge's." he went on after time.
Wouldn't wonder he's harborin' up
thar. an II e is, why is 'e7 An what
are they BOTH either one of EN-
4 doin' up hyur In the Fiatwoods? Hit
looks { me"-he bent toward his COM
panlon-"they've got Their eye on OIL
/ Slime Colin"
Uncle Nick sat thoughtfully fun
bling his chin.
"That'd leave Ken out" he unused.
He wouldn't "a fell that low. Any
how, theirs lots O. folks that locks like
other folks" Counterman thought
moment before he spoke again.
"Black Bogus game is counter
fitin'. but he's got the CUTS fr any
thing; an Loge's or'n'ry enough FIR
any dirt. Their amt nothin' I'd put
a-past I'm. He's done time twice't
already, an would be doin' it right
now If 1t werdn't FIR is sister. Thar's
one good gal--as different rom Loge
as the devil fom Sundy. Hits Loge's
one good p'int-he thinks heap of is
sister"
WELL" commented Uncle Nick with
his SLOW drawl. as the other paused,
hit might be the maxim of oil Slime
If somebody could manage Z pry
dollar r two ofrn him, an as>fr Big
Jack, low Their amt none OF 'em
honein' FIR more truck with him."
He chuckled complaisantly, pos
sibly fancying that he had put a
particularly neat and unanswerable
finish to the argument.
THAT amt it," Counterman pur-
sued, BLACK Bogus an Loge are both
the kind that strikes in the dark"
Thunder"
Uncle Nick's shoulder jerked away
from the porch post, and the fisher
man caught the glitter Of his deep-set
eyes in the twilight.
"They cayn't come nothin' like that
on the boy r I'll strike the warpath
mself Dunno but what I'll peel an
eye on that cabin up the crick"
The old ranger sat erect and rest
less. drumming with his fingers on
the porch floor and looking away
across the narrow mouth Of Eagle
hollow to where Black rock poked his
tumbled ramparts up against the
eastern sky.
The clatter in the kitchen ceased,
Aunt Lizas still sprightly, vastly posi-
tive step came across the cabin floor.
and a moment later the creak of her
rocking chair Joined the droning cho-
rus OF the beetles.
Wonder what Big Jack thinks o.
the way the parsons a-cuttin' around
is gal?" Counterman unused. An her
the best prize in the Flatwoods, even
If she didn't have a cent"
Uncle Nick fumbled out his pipe,
knocked 1t on the edge of the porch
floor. and filed and lit 1t.
Il knowed is father, Col David
Warhope, when e first come t. the
Flatwoods up'rds of eighteen years
back, an I knowed is grandfather.
Old Col. David Warhope fit Te-
cumseh an the Prophet under the
grandfather. The homestead wus
present t him f'om Gen. Andrew Jack.
son. or Colonel David an young
Colonel David, they wHs both fine up
standin' men, soldiers every inch, an
Big Jacks like EN-. Hits too bad the
homestead had T. be lost t. OF Slime,
an the boy bound out to i'm. But even
so, he'd make heap sight more fttin'
man FIR a Flatwoods gal than that
hump backed, squinty-eyed parson.
Beats the devil the Roadway he's
a-makin' with 'er. wouldn't "a
thought"
mo good'll come Of It," broke in
the acid tones of Aunt Liza Didn't
y'u see is carryin's on with err at the
sociable las night? Pig Jack amt
go'n' t be a bound boy f'rever. She'll
rue the day she draps a fine lad like
him an takes up with a furriner."
Jaw. Liza" drawled Uncle Nick,
"the parson amt no furrner he's
college professor"
Don't talk to me-" snapped the tart
| voice. 81 reckon | know what | see
with M own eyes Mind what ! tell
y'u. she'll rue it, an SOIL Slime Colin
a-lettin' i'm harbor around like that,
| don't keer if = did go f. school with