Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-09-20

| 1t had developed IN nun GER
tain stolidity and philosophy in such
emergencies. For 10 minutes he held
I,orry Kershaw's head against his Shout
der and neither spoke nor moved.
Now, then, Miss Kershaw," he
soothed presently, this is no time for
weakness. You're a Kershaw and none
of your clan ever needed time out for
that. You said you wanted to take
your father homer"
She nodded drearily. The Kershaws,
like the Hensleys, always buried their
own dead.
"And I wouldn't, If I were you, per-
NIT my mind to dwell on the thought
of your absolute aloneneSs in the world,
lies. I know. I've been through all
that. After two years in the A. E. F.,
where, 1t seemed to me, ] lost every
comrade I managed to achieve an al
lection for; after losing my mother and
aunts while was in France and realiz-
| ing hadn't a single friend in the COM
munity where 1 was born and raised, !
found myself, when the war ended, the
loneliest human being imaginable
"I was always your friend, Nate
| Tichenor," she quavered.
1T knew that the morning went
away to enlist. Often wanted to
come back to Eden Valley and know
you better but
Eyes, I understand. Father was what
he was, poor dear"
well. be that as it may. you're not
nearly so badly off as you think you
are, and one of these days, when you
have time to think about it, I'll tell
you why" He was almost abrupt. Il
suppose we'd better get along"
Eyes. I suppose So" she agreed, and
CT ad IIPhQnnT
lowed In his car. Arrived at the Circle
K headquarters, no men came out to
meet them.
Where are your riders?" he queried.
"They started with the cattle drive
up into the Forest Reserve this morn
ing"
/. He lifted Rance Kershaw's body out
of the car, carried it into the house and
disposed It on Kershaw's bed.
He drew sheet over the corpse and
rejoined the girl in the living room. II
reckon" he said, in the homely noun
tain idiom, you Kershaws never have
any truck with undertakers. Seems to
me the Kershaw's don't use preachers
either"
mo, we just read the service our
selves"
"The Hensleys always did, too. But
| you'll require death certificate"
! DIR. Donaldson will furnish that"
| Lock the house up and drive in to
Valley Center with me in my car. Have
you in mind some woman friend you can
bring back with you to keep you COM
pany?"
He froWned, then smiled family. II
! forgot we're the last survivors Of two
clans that were beyond the pale. Well,
we1l hire somebody. There must De a
practical nurse in Valley Center. When
we get there I'll telegraph my old su-
perintendent, RUDE Tenney, to come up
here with his wife ana two children"
She yielded without argument to his
uggestionS-command rather.
| DR.. Donaldson made no comment
| when. In his office an hour later, LOFTY
Kershaw informed him OF her father S
death. He readily issued death GER
| tificate. He was gruf old fellow and
not in the least polite, as Tichenor
realized when Donaldson growled:
so you two have buried the natcnet'
eh?"
He flushed as Tichenors bleak blue
eyes rebuked him. >,
cts none of my business, Of course, >
Donaldson apologized. Il merely hoped
for Miss Iorry's sake
Nate Tichenor smiled at him.
IT understand, doctor. No onense II
your intentions were kindly" -,
Thank you; they were. When VIII
the funeral take place.
Tomorrow, at o'clock" Lorry an
swered him.
"I1l telephone the coroner" Donald
| son went on. He'll take my word for
it that an inquest isn't necessary, ana
issue the burial permit.
While Lorry Kershaw waited IN the
car Nate Tichenor secuted around
town and succeeded in engaging the
services of a Miss Lizzie Bacnman, VINO
| in her youth had almost graousteo
/ from a nurses training school In san
Francisco. an.
Not for considerable would Miss
Rachman have missed this assignment
It was too meaty with gossip. Nate
Tichenor dancing attendance on Lorry
Tichenor's next action was to call
,lpon the editor of the local weekly
paper, the Valley Center Register: I
| he announced. IT do not seem TO re-
member YOU. Apparently you came to
| VALLEY Center after left Eden Valley"
THE editor said his name was Joe
Rrainerd and that he was pleased to
meet Mr.. Tichenor. He began asking
| questions with a view to running half
q column anent the return OF this well
known citizen, but T1chenor inter-
rupted.
"Mr. Ranceford Kershaw died about
| three hours ago, very suddenly, Mr..
! Brainerd," he began; mo. l didn't
xiii him. He persisted Of heart disease
and will be buried in the Kershaw
family cemetery in Eden Valley at
2nm tomorrow. Friends and neigh
| hors are invited to attend. And may
| I ask. Mr. Brainerd, as special favor
| to Miss Lorry Kershaw and myself,
| that YOU do not take this opportunity
| to print q couple of columns OF ancient
| history? Although you do not know
| n the Hensley-Kershaw feud ended
in 1917. Both Miss Kershaw and I
would like to think that the matter
| is by way of being forgotten and we'll
both be very grateful for your CO.
SMy dear sir" Brainerd replied
| with dignity, you mustn't presume to
formulate my editorial policy"
Nate Tichenor looked Brainerd over
bleakly. VERY WELL run it. Next
week. there'n be another newspaper in
| this town, with a real newspaper man
| in charge, and you'll have taste of
active competition. And now that we
/ understand each other, I want you to
run of hundred black-bordered death
notices and send man to paste them
up in various conspicuous places around
| the town. That used to be the custom
| in this country A few people might
| like to know of Rance Kershaw's death,
so they can come to his funeral as
advertised"
He wrote out the copy for the Job
| printer, paid his bill and departed
without further conversation. The
editor put on his hat and walked over
to the local hotel. upon the veranda
Of which sat Mr.. William Rooney, the