Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1924-02-07
A Tale of the Flatwoods
BY DAVID ANDERSON
Author of "The Blue Moon"
Copyright by The Bobbs- Merrill Co.

| the river l never knowed Loge, that
is, what y'u might say pers'n'ly. |
never seed i'm till e tangled with Big
Jack in the post Office t. other evenin',
but Enowed is sister, not the one
that's with I'm 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 if e is, why is e? An what
are they both-'r either one of 'em-
DOM up hyur in the Flatwoods? Hit
looks t. me'-he bent toward his COM
panion- they've got Their eye on oil
Slime Colin.''
Uncle Nick sat thoughtfully fun
/ bling his chin.
'1That'd' leave Ken out" he unused.
HE wouldn't "a fell that low. Any
how, theirs lots o. folks that looks like
other folks" Counterman thought a
moment before he spoke again.
BLACK Bogus game is counter
f'itin', but he's got the CUTS FIR 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 it werdn't FIR is sister. Thar's
one good gal-as different f'om Loge
as the devil f'om Sund'y. Hits Loge's
one good p'int-he thinks heap of lis
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 t pry a
dollar r two off'n him. an as FIR Big
Jack, I low Their amt none of 'em
honein' FIR more truck with him.
i He chuckled complaisantly, pos
sibly fancying that he had put q
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
m'self 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
| n a~ore +bo y,orro1r month 20 TEo01o
hollow to where Black rock poked his
tumbled ramparts up against the
eastern sky.
a The clatter in the kitchen ceased
Aunt Liza's 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 cent"
Uncle Nick fumbIed out his pipe
knocked it on the edge Of the porch
floor, and filed and lit it.
n II knowed is father, Col David
Warhope, when e first come t. the
Flatwoods uprds of eighteen years
back, an | knowed is grandfather
Old Col. David Warhope. l fit TIE.
cumseh an the. Prophet under the
gran'father. The homestead wus 8
present t. him f'om Gen. Andrew Jack
son. OF Colonel David an youne
Colonel David, they wus both fine, up
standin' men, soldiers every inch, an
Big Jacks like 'em. Hits too bad the
homestead had t. be lost t. OF Sine
an the boy bound out to i'm. But even
so, he'd make heap sight more fittfn
man FIR a Flatwoods gal then that
hump-badked, squinty-eyed parson
Beats the devil the Roadway he's
a-makin' with 'er. wouldn't "a
thought"
mo good'H come of it," broke in
the acid tones Of Aunt Liza. Didn't
yu see is carryin's on with 'er at the
sociable las night? Big Jack amt
gon' t. be bound boy f'rever. She'll
rue the day she draps fine lad like
him an takes up with a furriner.'
Jaw, Liza" drawled Uncle Nick,
"the parson amt no furriner he's a
college pr'fessor."
Don't talk to me-" snapped the tart
! voice. Il 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 e did go t. school with
Ken.
81 bet y'u if 'er mother wus Twin
Their wouldn't be no SIGH goins-on. ]
dunno what OF Slime can be thinkin'
about-nothin' but money hoardin' an
lam grabbin', reckon. If l had a
gal, I'd no more think o. lettin' 'er be
harbored up with teetotal furriner
that-a-way-huh no more think O.
lettin' 'er than I'd think o. takin' wings
and flynn t Ingland. There amt no
sense"
cav, don't be too hard on the par