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Established July I, 1859. *A Map of Busy Life, Its Fluctuations and Its Vast Concerns.” Subscription, $1 per Year.

f iFTY-FIF I’l l YE AD. BENTON, BOSSIER PARISH, LOUISIANA, THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1916. NUMBER U.

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KENNY’S ; T

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Tragic Tale of the Rough Jus

tice of a Mining Camp.

By WALTER DUNCAN *C o p y r ig h t b y F r a n k A. M u n sey Co.

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Ths Lure of Far Lands.With a reasonable capital, youth,

strength, character and a knowledge of the language fortunes can be made relatively easier on the frontiers of civilization than at home. There are, however, many privations to be borne. You nre away from friends. Mails at best come once a week. News is scarce. Daily papers exist only In metropolitan towns, and the data they lontain are meager. In many localities fresh vegetables cannot be had Drinking water is positively danger ous. Fleas, bugs, mosquitoes and a host of winged, singing, biting insects are present to annoy during day and night. Most hotels are bad and the food strange, unpalatable and poorly cooked.

For women but few real opportunities exist. I know of but two women lawyers in Latin America, and there are iierhaps the same number of doctors and dentists. Relatively small proportions of the fair sex follow com mereial callings. In the far east and Africa caste, the system of "“purdah" and the general belief that woman is inferior to man have retarded her progress.—W. E. Aughinbaugta in Leslie's.

Keep In the Sunshine.There are only two kinds of people in

the world—the people* who live In the shadow and gloom and those who live on the sunny side of the street. These shadowed ones are* sometimes called pessimists, sometimes people of melancholy temperament; sometimes they are called disagreeable people. Rut. wherever they go, their characteristic is this—their shadows always travel on before them. These people never bear their own burden, but expose all their wounds to others. They are all so busy looking down for pitfalls and sharp stones and thorns on which to step that they do not even know that there are any stars in the sky. These folks live on the wrong side of the street. And yet it is only twenty feet across to the other sidewalk, where sunshine always lies.—Newell Dwight Hillls.

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A Valuable Tooth.There is nn amusing story of the

economy necessary in the early days of the Norwegian theater at Bergen. It was in 1849, when Ibsen and Bjorn- son were creating the national drama. A lady had been engaged for the p^rt of “second old woman" when it was discovered that her elocutionary pow ers were impaired by the fact that she had lost one of her front teeth. Impoverished as she was, the management came to the rescue and bore the expense of the necessary dentistry. When she retired, however, after two seasons, she had to leave the tooth l>e- hlnd her. the example of the dentist’s art being the property of the theater. The management was too poor to part with i t

She Was One of Them.Once a high school principal was

having a dispute with one of his teachers. a vivneious young lady. She claimed that the word “man” meant mankind as a whole, while “men" always signified the masculine gender.

The principal maintained that therp were exceptions and triumphantly quoted, “Though 1 speak with the tongues of men aud of angels.''

But the youpg lady answered de nmrely. “That won't do. for, you see. both genders are mentioned th e re ." — Ladies’ Home Journal

Th* Art of Carpentry.How many common figurative expres

sions in our language are borrowed from the art of carpentry may he seen from the following sentence: “The lawyer who filed the bill, shaved the note, cut an acquaintance, split a hair, made an entry, got up a case, framed an indictment, impaneled a Jury, put them into a box, nailed a witness, hammered a judge and 1 Hired a whole- court. all in one day, has since laid down law aud turned carpenter."

The theory of Kenny’s defense was that Blick was first to draw. Clearly no one believed it—not one of those silent, rugged men who formed a semicircle in front of Frisco’s saloon. Against Kenny’s word was his reputation—in the mining camp he was known for a bad man, quick on the draw and quicker on the trigger—and there had been bad blood between the dead man and him who now stood in the center of the semicircle.

If in those days the laws of that out of the way place, such as were defined, were administered summarily with lit tie dignity and less ceremony justice was the quicker for it. Seldom was its aim at fault, and it seldom if ever hung fire.

Blick’s stiffening form, lying face downward on the hillside where it had dropped when Kenny’s gun had spat had been exposed to the sun less than an hour before Kenny was called upon by the vigilance committee to explain, lie and Blick had ridden into the hills together. Kenny had returned home alone.

They found Kenny down at Frisco's. Boldly and with a show of unconcern he began his version, while the men of the V C. closed in and formed the seini c ircle around him.

Big and forbidding, Bill John Mickle stood in the doorway, cutting off the one avenue of retreat. Bill John had presided as master of ceremonies on more than one previous occasion of this kind

“He tried to kill me," Kenny told them. “I had to kill him."

But, looking from one rugged face into another and reading their silent verdict, the accused lost his self confidence. and in the desperation with which a stag held at hay fights for life "Kenny strove to convince the si lent, unbelieving men of the truth of his words.

There was no one to champion his cause. The men of the V. O. did things at first hand—every man to his own defense. Determined to-maintain at least a semblance of law and order, they had found it necessary to take the law into their own hands, sumetimes to sacrifice human life to make human life the more secure. They did It unflinchingly.

Kenny had had his warning. A week ago he had seen these men form a semicircle and pass judgment on Sam Carter, lie whose gun had harked when some one here ut Frisco’s plucked a fifth ace from the gambler's sleeve Before his man was cold Car ter’s legs were dangling three feet from the ground and his body swayed from a taut hemp rope.

So Kenny, remembering Sam Car ter’s fate and searching the grim faces that walled him in for the encourage ment he did not find, trembled

"He tried to kill me.” lie repeated slowly.

Silently one after anotbei slowiy shook their heads. They knew Blick for a man of,peace. And thdy knew Kenny. Ili.s record nullified his words

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“ I WAS BIDING ON Tltli UPi'EIl ÏKA1L AND I SAW JT. UE KILLED UIM IN BELl DEFENSE."

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I f It were not for the one thing, thought Kenny, lie could make them believe. That he and the man he had killed had been hitter rivals until Frisco's daughter Katie had given hei heart to Blick completed his con dem nation, and the silent, rugged men would not believe.

Slowly, one after another, they shook their heads.

“Say your prayers. Kenny.”Bill John Mickle from his stand in

the doorway pronounced judgment on the culprit.

“And may God have mercy on your soul!" he added. Somewhere hack in civilization he had heard that

The condemned man did nut pray Despairing, he saw the semicircle

broken where a man from whose arm hup g a colled hemp rope stepped out of his place and advanced quickly to ward him.

Kenny’s fingers Itched for the feel of his gun. In another moment the uoose was slipped over his head and drawn so tight it pained him where the big. rough knot pressed hard against his neck.

“Say your prayers, Kenny,” Bill John repeated, “it’s your last chance to say them.’’

Kenny looked dazedly about him. lie was not looking for hope. Of hope lie knew there was none. Fear, to which he had been a stranger, chilled the blood in his veins. Still he did not pray. To Bill John Mickle, who still stood In the doorway looking down upon the little tragedy enacted in the little arena as a judge look3 down from the bench, the man with the noose about his neck turned an appealing, helpless, whitening face, and his lips moved. But no sound escaped them.

The silence was that of the hills and of death.

It was broken by a footfall inside the saloon, aud from behind Bill John appeared a woman, little more than a girl. She was Frisco's daughter Katie, who, attracted by the crowd, had come from the kitchen which was set apart a little way iu the rear.

For one second she surveyed the scene through eyes red with weeping; theÿ she stepped into the semicircle of men.

Kenny, t he rope about his neck, went whiter at sight of her and trembled, afraid of the woman for love of whom he had gone to ids ruin.

But how he had loved her! If he might know that she even now still caral one little hit lie could go to his doom and die like a man.

“Time's up,” announced Bill John, snapping the case of his watch.

“Wait.”Something in the girl's voice as she

spoke—something Kenny least of all had expected and which he could not define—caused him to lift his head. Would she taunt him for killing her lover, he who had known the way to a woman's heart, now that lie was going to his own death?.“He tried to kill me,” he pleaded. “I

cannot make them believe me, but I had to do it.”

“That is what I have come to tell you,” answered the girl, addressing the men who formed the semicircle “I saw it all. I was riding on the up per trail, and I saw i t He killed him in self defense.”

Kenny looked at the girl unbellev Ingly. She whose lover he had shot down, whose scorn he had expected, she had come at the crisis to save his neck. They must believe her.

In spite of the hemp rope, he threw back his head and laughed boldly iu triumph, for he had cheated the death that a moment before hovered over him. and in life there would now be no handsome, hated Blick to win away the girl's heart from him.

Bill John Mickle from the doorway was speaking.

“Kenny,” he said, “she lias saved your worthless hide, hut you’ve had a nprrow escape. Let this be a lesson to you. We can’t bang you now, but this community don’t need your kind, and you got to go. Before sundown—un derstand?”

Unblushing and defiant, the girl who bad drawn nearer to the man she had saved, as though to further protect him from the rest, turned upon Bill John.

“If he goes, then I go too.” she threatened, knowing full well that every man in camp was dependent upon her. the only woman within forty miles.

Kenny, who was a man of action, lost no time marveling at Katies unexpected words. He heard, and a proud advantage over these rugged, si lent men swelled within him. At the- Instant he regained all the bold defiance of his nature.

“Let us go,” he said to her.T am ready.”fhe men who had formed the semi

circle were silent and still no longer. They gathered round Bill John and Frisco and voiced their protest against the girl's going. It was unanimous-

“1 guess you can stay. Kenny.” Reversing his former decision with

these words. Bill John walked away, and Katie, laughing in the pride of her victory, ran back to her kitchen behind Frisco's saloon. She felt certain that Kenny would come to her there pres ently.

Three hours later, when the men who bad formed the semicircle were back up hi the hills and Frisco dozed In n corner of his saloon and the mining camp was lifeless and still, the man sought the woman who had saved bis life.

For more than gn hour he had been cursing himself for a blind fooi while be lay outstretched upou the hunk in his shgck at the foot of the bills Any one else, he told himself, would have known that the girl bad loved lmn all the while and that, like a woman. she had only pretended Blick had won her away from him.

But, even though she loved him and had loved him while he had not known it, Kenny felt that be owed her a great debt for what she had done. She had saved his life. He owed her that at the very least.

He resolved then that he would devote it to her happiness and thought a little of mending his ways. He would make it all up to her.

At the kitchen he fouud her. She was wiping the dishes when ho camp, and, resting his elbows op the rough window sill, he thrust his head and shoulders inside-

“Jintie. that was a, mighty big thing you done for me today.” he said slmfly

The girl dried her hands and came tad stood beside the window.

“You saved my life, girl.” the man went on “Why Old you tell ’em yon saw me—saw It all?”

Bui still the girl answered nothing ■'li as it because you love me. Katie?' Af»or a little hesitating moment the

girl looked up, straight into Kenny'i hungry eyes, and slowly shook her head.

“No.” she said—“no, 1 don’t love you. Kenny. It wasn't that."

The man started, surprised.“Then, why did you tell 'em that

lie?" he lemauded of her. “Why didn't you let 'em finish the job?”

“Because," the girl answered him- "because I need you, Kenny; because want you to help me. Do you love me. Kenny?"

“God. how many times have I told you?" he cried passionately. “I’d give

£n i f -— a e

M ' S PRESENTA Gift and Message That Tickled

Lincoln’s Sense of Humor.

RETURNING THE COMPLIMENT.

An Equivalent That Was Appreciated and Treasured by the Confederate Colonel — An Episode Born of the Capture of General Stoughton.

YOU WILL DO T niS FOR ME—WHAT I ASK?”

you my life, my heart and soul, my name"—

"That’s what I’m going to jftk of you. Kenny,” site said. “It's your name I want—just th a t”

“My name?" be asked, understand ing nothing of what she was trying to tell him. “My name? For what?"

"For the child whose father you kill ed today." she answered bravely, a lit tie quiver in her voice, and hung her head to hide what might be in her face and iu her eyes. “Do you understand now ?”

Kenny staggered backward as oue under the weight of a heavy blow and stared for a moment, unbelieving Then he snjd:

“Yes; I understand now.”“We were to lie married next Sun

day when the parson comes,” she add ed, but Kenny gave no sign that be heard. lie had turned his back to the window and was looking far away across the hills.

“You will do this for me—what i ask?” She pressecVlTlni for au answer. "I have been honest with «you, Kenny. You must remember that. I need not have told you. and I saved your life today."

“You saved my life, yes." he cried, turning quickly upon her, “but you loved him!"

“Yon will do it, Kenny?" she insisted as he was turning away.

“Tomorrow I will tell you. I don't know.” he answered, and without another word he walked away and went to his shack.

Before sundown a man on a horse, with his blankets rolled into a pack behind his saddle and his outfit strapped to his back, rode out of camp and up Into the hills.

It was Kenny, and he was going away

Down in the little kitchen behind Frisco’s saloon in the valley a woman, little more than a girl, was' weeping bitter tears.

In the Family.Uncle Henry married my father's

cousin. They lived alone in a great bouse, which had the most dismal li brary in the whole wide world. It was all black walnut, lined with books with dull leather backs and uninteresting titles. Over the shelves, against a border of black velvet, were rows of marble statuettes that came from Europe.

There were two invalid chairs with big wheels, although neither Uncle Henry nor Aunt Ella were really invalids. and in one corner of the room was a Swiss music box that played lugubrious airs. Finally Uncle Henry died, and then Aunt Ella, and all the property had to be divided.

Aunt Ella had always worn a large black cameo likeness of Uncle Henry, which had been cut in Rome. It was set as a brooch and was surrounded with rather large sized diamonds and was an object of most sacred venera tlou to us all. We felt that it should go—as the greatest treasure of all—to the niece with Uncle Henry’s name. Cnn you imagine our feelings when she had It made into a belt buckle?— New York Independent.

Caught It, and It Was Her Own.Anna Belle Wilson was the proud

possessor of n well developed case of whoopiug cough, and. as she explained it. “it was the first one of the •eatchin’ * diseases 1 ever had.”

She was just developing a good, healthy whoop when her mother gave her some advice as to the danger of her playmates in catching the disease.

“You must be very careful about playing with other children.” lier moth er sqid “When you see them coming |q play with you do not lose any time in running from them or they will take it from yau."

Imagine Mrs. Wilson's surprise and amusement when Anna Belle catapulted into the front door only a few feet ahead of little Miss Jane Keyes, one of her playmates.

“Mamma! Mamina!” the child screamed. “ F or mercy sake, shut the door! Jane is after me. and if you don't help she’ll take the whooping cough from me! And just think, main ma. it's the only one I ever ennglit lo o !* '-Indianapolis News.

Colonel Johu S. Mosby, the southern cavalry leader in the war betweeu the states, accumulated many mementos of that long aud bloody struggle, but uoue which lie treasured more jealously than a lock of dark hair wrapped in a faded yellow scrap of newspaper. The hair was cut from the head of Abraham Lincoln. It was Lincoln’s own hand which cut it, and the great war president himself who sent i t

Iu the spring of 1803 the Army of the Potomac lay along the north hank of the Rappahannock, about fifty miles south of Washington. The intervening country was, of course, iu the possession of the Union troops. Off in the recesses of the Blue Ridge mountains, about thirty miles westward, was Colonel Mosby, with a body of picked southern cavalrymen, seeking to do what injury he could to the Federal outposts and lines of communication.

About the middle of March there encamped at Fairfax Court House, a village of about 500 inhabitants, halfway between Washington and the army on the Rappahannock, a force cf several thousand Union troops under General Stoughton.

From a military point of view, his camp at Fairfax was nearly as safe as Boston. Between his own force and the southern army, under General Lee, lay General Hooker's great Army of the Potomac. Even Colonel Mosby’s small force—less than a hundred men —was thirty miles away.

Nevertheless, Colonel Mosby determined to capture General Stoughton. Selecting twenty of his best troopers he started oue drizzly March afternoon for Stoughton's camp. It was after midnight when he ran into the first picket, who was easily captured in the darkness. And thus, taking picket aft er picket in the black night. Colonel Mosby made his way without alarm into the village, until he entered Gen oral Stoughton’s bedchamber.

The unhappy officer was compelled to dress and accompany his captors. The pitch black, rainy night and the fact that the men of both commands wore rubber capes of the same style rendered it Impossible for the prisoners, Stoughton included, to determine the number of the enemy. With half a hundred prisoners and a hundred horses. Colonel Mosby quietly made his way out of the camp and was soon beyond reach of pursuit

The adventure created a stir in military quarters. Stoughton was roundly censured for allowing himself thus to be stolen from the midst of his troops, although he was in nowise to blame.

President Lincoln, whose sense of humor nothing could quench, remark ed, when told of the affair, that he did not mind losing the general, but the hundred horses were a serious matter. “I can make a general with the scratch of a pen,” he said dryly, “but I can't make horses.”

Shortly afterward Colonel Mosby, with a few companions, was recon- noitering in the vicinity of Washington. On the road he encountered an old Dutch market woman taking her gnrdeu truck in her cart to peddle It through the Washington streets. Colonel Mosby stopped and questioned her. Noticing a pair of scissors at her belt and having heard of President Lincoln's comments on General Stoughton’s capture, he said:

“Do you know Mf. Lincoln?”“Yah,” replied the old woman. “Seen

him often, I have.”Taking the scissors. Colonel Mosby

cut off a lock of his hair, and wrapping it in n piece of paper handed it to the old woman, saying:

“I’m Colonel Mosby. Wheu you get to Washington go to the White House and tell the president that Colonel Mosby sent him this lock of his hnir and say also that he is coming over into Washington some night to get a lock of the president's hair.”

The old market woman went her way, and Colonel Mosby rode back and forgot the incident. Some weeks later, however, when making another reconnoissanee in that neighborhood, the old woman hailed him from a roadside cottage. Hurrying into the cottage, she brought forth a scrap of newspaper and delivered it to Colonel Mosby.

“Here iss a lock of President Lincoln's hair,” she said. “He tolt me to say to you that he hat rather you vould not come ofer to see him and that he send it to you by me. Here It iss!”—Youth’s Companion.

WARSHIP FIGHTING TOPS.They Are Now Mainly Used For Sentry

and Signaling Work.Lord Nelson was killed by a musket

ball fired from the crosstrees of hi* French antagonist Because of this fighting tops came into existence and, being developed to keep pace with other parts of naval construction, coo. tinue to be a traditional feature of tbs world's navies.

A- century ago. when fighting men-« mnrines, boarding parties, gun crews— crowded the upper decks of a warship, a sharpshooter posted aloft picked off many a man. But a big battleship In action today shows not a mark to tb* man in the fighting top.

In the days when it still remained possible for boatloads of armed men to swarm up the sides and board A fighting ship plunging shots were dropped from the fighting top. But with great steel walls overhanging th« waves and never an accommodation ladder swung out for their welcome It Is impossible for uninvited guests to set foot oil the modern deck.

The captain of the fighting top lo usually in control of (lag, semaphore and heliograph signaling, leaving the wireless to an invisible operator interned somewhere in the ship’s vital*. He is the sentry against small Inquisitive craft and may enforce his order* by the rattle of a light quick tirer.

He has the outlook, reports and questions passing ships und has virtues a* a detective against spies. His functions, however, are limited. He is not high enough placed to see the submarine creeping along a score' of feet beneath the surface or to note its w*k* of broken water.

The fighting top is in big cruiser* quite a massive affair and no longer the tiny breastwork behind which th* picked riflemen of the ancients knelt. A duplicate set of range finders is usually kept there and used to check off the work of the experts in the fire control tower. There are light quick firer* and machine guns, possibly also a high angle gun or two for use against tkr craft.—Pearson's.

Original Home of Welshmen.Jutland was probably the original

homo of our Kymric ancestors, as well as (at a later period) of some so called Saxon Invaders. It was peopled In classical times by the Cimbrl, identified by ethnologists with the Cymry. or modern Welshmen. The Germans magnanimously declined to annex Jutland with Schleswig-Holstein. It was (hen considered a worthless waste of moors, sand dunes and marshes. But tho Industrious Dajics have transformed what one English traveler styled '*» forsaken wilderness” into the most prosperous pastoral countries of western Europe.—Westminster Gazette.

Bee's Double Stomach.The bee has two distinct stomach*.

In the first it stores away the honey It so Industriously gathers up from the flowers until such time as it is ready to yield it up, while the other stomach is used simply and solely for digestion purposes. Thus the food and the honey nre never mixed. When the bee returns to the hive and is ready to deposit the honey it has gathered It contracts tho muscles of the stomach, by which act the honey is ejected through the mouth. As to bee food, it is various in kind, consisting largely of the honey it so patiently makes for othar*.

No “Poor Land."“That land of yours was mighty poor

when you bought It,” a friend of our* remarked to tho wide awake owner of a beautiful farm wo passed tho other day, whereupon the owner delivered himself of n faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation—or mighty nearly so. “You’re mistaken,” he said. “There’s not any poor land when yon manage it right.” It Is a true rule that “there is more In the man than there Ut in the land.”—Progressive Farmer.

Superstitions of Royalty.Caesar, Napoleon, Bismarck and oth

ers were not above the superstition of “lucky” and “unlucky" days. Thursday was tho “unlucky” day of Henry VIII., of his son Edward and of hie daughters. Alary and Elizabeth. It 1* strange that they should have died upon this day.

As Regards Vanity.“All is vanity. At least so says th*

philosopher.”“I don't know about that,” chimed

in the Plunkville sage, “hut there 1* enough of it to keep the drag store* doing a good business in complexion contraptions.”—Exchange.

Couldn’t Fool Him.Lecturer (In small town)—Of cours*

you all know what tho Inside of a corpuscle is like. Chairman of Meeting (interrupting)—Most of. us do. hut y* better explain it for the benefit of them that lias never been inside one. —Puck.

As She Saw It.“What is the meaning of specter,

Lizzie?”“Please, sir, I don’t know.”“Now, think. What is the specter

that usually frightens people?"“The school ’spcctor, sir.”—Pall Mall

Gazette.

An Example.“The evil that men do lives after

them." Even when the amateur cor net player dies lie leaves the fatal in st.mment behind.—London Tit-Bits.

Hold all the skirts of thy mantle ex tended when heaven is raining gotd- Eastern Proverb.

Got Familiar With Them.Professor Fugue — What do yon

mean, Mr. Jones, by speaking of Dick Wagner, Ludie Beethoven, Cbarll* Gounod aDd Fred Handel? Jonea— Well, yon told me to get familiar with the great composers.—Musical America.

Just Change.Mrs. Bacon—Does your husband car

ry any life Insurance? Mrs. Egbert- Well, I never hnppened to run against any when I've been going through his pockets at night.—Yonkers Statesman.

Children end Reading.That the child who reads rapidly get*

the most thought out of the books read Is the result of every experiment that has been made in this Une.—Misa Mary Dowuey at Chautauqua