Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1942-06-25

He sent his deep, blunt call at
watched the pale and heatless flame
rise. He was across from Clay Nor
gan; his eyes searched the crowd.
The edges of his vest fell away from
the rounds of his shoulders and the
deep stretch of his chest; his big
ness was all in proportion, legs and
arms and torso; it was muscular
bigness, bigness of thick bones.
"Lige," he said, II hear there's a
new homesteader come to the spring
Jim Spackman used to squat on
81 heard so,' said Lige White.
we'll warn him out of there to-
morrow" said Herendeen. But
when he stopped talking Clay Nor
gan knew he wasn't finished Her
endeen's thoughts were on his face,
for everybody to see. cor maybe
we've got some great big soul in
this crowd whose heart bleeds for
people like that. Seems to be hell
of lot of charity around here
lately"
Morgan swayed forward to lift a
burning sage stem from the fire;
its oil-bright glow fickered against
his cheeks, against his eyes. This
silence held it's waiting and it's re-
serve. Morgan tossed the sage stem
back into the fire, drawing sharp
glance from Charley Hillhouse. Lige
White uncomfortably crossed his
feet. Gurd Grant crouched by the
blaze and revealed nothing on his
scrupulously neutral face. Morgan
relaxed gently on his shoulder
blades and pillowed his head against
the saddle. He said nothing but he
saw the changing expression on Her
endeen's cheeks. Herendeen had
braced himself for trouble, he had
unanswered this talk around to
make break; but nothing hap
pened and he stood a moment, I'M
certain and displeased, and after
wards walked away.
Instead of turning west to his own
ranch, Herendeen travelled due south
toward a low range of hills which
separated Running w from Three
Pines. An hours ride brought him
within sight of a far-shining light,
which was the mark of home
steader's cabin against the hills; but
when he came upon the homestead
er's cabin, drifting into the heavy
shadows at the base of these hills, a
dog began to bark and suddenly the
light died. He refined in before the
cabin, feeling his contempt for the
evident fear which had caused the
homesteader to kill the light. They
were all alike, these homesteaders,
little men crawling as near the
range as.,they dared, sticking their
ploMs into the unplowed soil and
slowly starving while the sun burnt
up their crops and ruined the land
ever afterward for Craze He could
not tolerate this breed, or their sun
blackened wives, or their tow-head-
ed children.
He sent his deep, blunt call at
the shack. "Hey - come out
here"
They were talking, inside. A boys
voice said, "Pa, don't 60" A woman
was talking, quickly and with sup
pressed excitement. The door
squealed open and somebody stood
in its black square, speechless.
"What you doing here?" demand
ed Herendeen. "This place is on
Lige Whites range. We drove Jim
Spackman away from it last year."
"You Lige White?" said a man in
a dim, drawn tone.
"What the hell is that to you?
My names Herendeen and l asked
you a question:
"Oh," said the man. "Im Jack
Gale. l bought Jim Spackman's
rights to this place"
'tHe never had any rights to SELL"
.'de built the house, Mr.. Herein
deem" Then the man added, quiet
ly, cts free land, amt it? 1 under
stood it was. l also understood Mr..
White wouldn't mind"
Herendeen was nettled by the ar
gument. "You damned nesters are
all alike, trying to stand on this free
land business. You stick your pillow
into it and ruin it, and starve to
death, and steal cattle to keep your
kids alive, and move away. We're
not in the game of providin' meat
to nesters."
Gales wife called from the in
terror of the house "Jack, come in
here. Come in" Herendeen heard
her run over the floor. She caught
hold of her husband and these two
were gently wrestling around the
doorway with Gale saying, Nov,
Allie, stop it-stop it, But she
pulled him inside and slammed the
door A child, very young, began
to cry in a thin, startled rhythm.