The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1924-05-14
A Tale of the Flatwoods
By DAVID ANDERSON
Author of 1.-THE Blue Moon"
Copyright by The Bobbs- Merrill Co.

0 Il Dunno" COunterman pursue,
: Hes bad lot. Their amt q wors
man the length o. the Wabash. Al
, then there's Loge Belden they sa
l moved In the Of cabin up Eagle hole
last week with is sister.
Cordwood-huh-he amt no more
wood chopper than be. He's rive
man. Come fom the K'ntucky noun
tains In the first place, an use'n t. b.
pearl fisher till they run i'm Off
the river. l never knowed Loge, tina
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 l knowed 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 a time.
wouldn't wonder he's harborln' 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.
'"That'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 q
moment before he spoke again.
"Black Bogus game Is counter
f'itln', but he's got the CUTS fr any
thing; an Loge's or'n'ry enough f'r
any dirt. Their amt nothin' I'd put
a-past i'm. He's done time twicet
already, an would be dom 1t right
now If 1t werdn't FIR is sister. Thar's
one good gal-as different fon Loge
as the devil fom Sund'y. 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 Sine |
If somebody could manage t. pry a
dollar r two off'n him, an as f'r Big
Jack, I low Their amt none of 'em
honein' f'r more truck with him."
He chuckled complalsantly, pos
sibly fancying that he had put q
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"
'Thunderl"
Uncle Nick's shoulder jerked away
from the porch post, and the fisher
nan caught the glitter of his deep-set
eyes In the twilight.
"They cayn't come nothin' like that
IN the boy r I'll strike the warpath
n'self. Dunno but what I'll peel an
we on that cabin up the crlck."
The old ranger sat erect and rest
ess, drumming with his fingers on
he porch floor and looking away
cross the narrow mouth of Eagle
ollow to where Black rock poked his
umbled ramparts up against the
astern sky.
The clatter In the kitchen ceased,
unit Lizas still sphghtly, vastly posi-
I've step came across the cabin floor,
nd moment later the creak of her $
ocking chair Joined the droning cho- q
US of the beetles. 4
wonder what Big Jack thinks o.
he way the parsons a-cuttin' around
$ gal?" Counterman mused AN her
lie best prize in the Flatwoods, even
she didn't have cent"
Vrpo1a Moi fr,,hIal ont bte x,tn~
nocked 1t on the edge of the porch
DOR, and filed and lit it.
81 knOwed is father, Col. David
when e first come t. the
latwoods up'rds of eighteen years.
ick, an l knowed is grandfather,
Id Col. David Warhope l fit Te-
lmseh an the Prophet under the
an father. The homestead wus a
resent t. him f'om Gen. Andrew Jack
N. or Colonel David an young
olonel David, they wus both fine. up
andin men, soldiers every inch, an
e Jacks like 'em. Hits too bad the
had t. be lost t. OF Sine,
! the boy bound out to i'm. But even
, he'd make heap sight more fittin
an FIR a Flatwoods gal than that
lmp-backed, squinty-eyed parson.
'ats the devil the Roadway he's
maxim with 'er. 1 wouldn't "a
ought"
mo good'll come of It," broke In
e acid tones of Aunt Liza. Didn't
l see is earryin's on with 'er at the
ciable las night? Big Jack amt
N t be bound boy f'rever. She'll =.
e the day she ,draps fine lad like OF
n an takes up with furrlner."
Jaw, Liza" drawled Uncle Nick,
ne parson amt no furriner he's hu
llege pr'fessor." an
Don't talk to me-" snapped the tart sn
Ice. II reckon l know what l see nm
tn m own eyes. Mind what l tell ha
|, she'll rue it, an SOIL Sine Colin CIV
ettin' i'm harbor around like that, 90,
Mt keer If e did go T. school with DR.,
n.
Il bet y'u If 'er mother wus livin'
,r' wouldn't be no SIGH goins-on. l