Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-05-31
Oar Brings Home Bacon.


the mellow larks were whistling.
But it was not the beauties of nature
that called forth the admiration OF
practical Oar Jackson. He had no
time to waste on green hills ana
tumbling streams. His satisfied smile
was all for the great Poland China hog,
Champion Rex w, which painted In the
road before him. One end of long
rope was clutched in the gnarled INST
of the heavy-shouldered farmer. The
other end tethered the Sharp-hooted
hind leg of the 300-pound hog.
Champion Rex ~ had, with the per-
versity of his hog mind, deserted the
succulent alfalfa shoots and wandered
into the timber, searching for last years
acorns. Placidly but pantingly and
with many stops, he was being led back
to the home pastures. During every
pause for breath Oar Jackson caressed
with gloating eyes the sleek sides and
fat hams of the great Poland China.
Around the bend behind man and
hog came the staccato bark of speed
ing car. Oar Jackson lifted his gaze
apprehensively.
, "Durn fool city drivers" he mumbled,
"galivantin' over the hills thirty miles
hour 'thout no thought for other
folks rights"
With crooked stick for goad, he
hurried the grunting hog from the
graveled road into the hill trail. The
noise of the approaching car became
momentarily louder. Oar jackson could
even distinguish the rattle of the fen
ders and body above the cough of the
motor.
Down the road ripped a stripped
down f1ivver. The former distinguished
a goggled man behind the wheel and
another at his side. Then, without
warning, the little car swerved into the
branch trail. Oar Jackson howled
ing in its implication; squeal of an
guish and fright, abruptly terminated;
a Stified curse. Then quiet.
Oar jackson held the end of a slack
rope. On the other end was a dead
hog. now simply 800 pounds of pork.
A stripped-down flivver lay overturned
at the side of the road. One man, face
down in the soft loan at the roadside,
another sitting by his side, head in
hands. Oar Jackson cursing fervidly.
A picture strongly out of harmony with
the lazy Spring day.
Oar Jackson's face was black with
rage. He could excuse the dust and the
noise Of careless drivers, he could even
occasionally overlook the death Of a
hayward chicken in the path of the
all of $500 and the pride of the far
mer's heart. And this was not Rolls
Royce-not even a good truck-simply
an old f1ivver that was not worth one
Of Champion Rex's hams.
fought to take this club to 'em and
finish 'em off" he Snarled to himself
as he glowered at the men on the
ground. I'll take 'em down to Judge
Duffy, that's what I'll do. Sue 'em for
damages-and take the Judgment outa
their hides"
He drew bis jackknife from his pocket
and cut the. rope from the dead hogs
leg. Then with a heavily shot foot he
rolled the unconscious driver to the edge
of the road near his daZed companion.
Tightly he tied the right wrist of one
to the left of the other, using q short
length of rope cut from the coil. Then
either end Of the remainder he fastened
to the free wrists. When the men re-
gained their senses they were hitched
like team of horses and Oar Jackson
held the lines with a practiced fist. !,
He hourished his goad and jerked on
the rope, kicking aside battered Glad
stone bag that had been thrown with
the men from the car.
'Diddap, you team of hog-killerSl Git
goin'! We're headed forstown."
SAY you long-whiskered hicki"
snarled the one who had piloted the
wrecked car, "think We can get away
with tyin' us up this way? Better
loosen this rope if you don't want a
slug of lead in yer gizzard." He reached
toward his pocket and had his arm
nearly dislocated for his trouble.
Don't try nothin' like that" warned
Oar. make another pass like that. and
I'll jerk that arm clean of Of you. Git
eprsi N + 3
better do what the hick says
warned the other from the corner Of
his mouth: Wen watch our chance
an gang him.
Oar jackson and his strange team
turned down the road toward Madison.
AS the driver passed the Gladstone bag
that he had SO unceremoniously kicked
his natural tfriftiness asserted itself
and he picked it up. They had gone no
more than 100 yards before theS team
was well broken as to, gait and rein
sense, thanks to the heavy goad and
the well trained driving hand. With
courses and blows Oar hurried his team
AS they neared' the first bend there
came to them a confused sound of
shouting and the crunch Of running
feet. As with a single impulse, the
hitched men turned and dived toward
the DTuSu All tIl6 sue Oh Tic sIUdQ. Lar
jackson dropped the bag, planted his
feet firmly, and his team sat smartly
back ON their launches.
Around the bend streamed motley
array Of men, armed with rifles. shot
guns and clubs, Marshal Tom Jones in
the lead. As they approached Oar
Jackson and his prisoners they came
to an abrupt halt.
Where did you git them, Dar?"
painted the perspiring marshal. Its q
durn wonder they amt plugged you.
Did you git the loot, too?"
For long minute Oar jackson re-
manned silent and puzzled. He had no
inkling of the meaning of Tom Jones
questions, but he was too si1rewd a
trader to let 1t be known.
Got 'em down by the forks. Why?"
he asked.
Marshal Jones stopped and looked
squarcly into the faces of the prisoners.
Then he Strengthened.
"Yep, it's them, all right. This one
here Is Soup Malone, who cracked the
safe, and this little shrimp Is Jersey
Bill Ginser."