This occurs most often in men from forty to sixty years old. It is not uncommon in children. Cause. It is usually due to drinking of alcohol to excess, especially whisky, brandy, rum or gin. The liver is small and thin; hard, granular, white ban... Read more of CIRRHOSIS OF THE LIVER. (Sclerosis of the Liver) at Home Medicine.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Shacks Live Stock And Pilgrims Promptly And Painfully Removed








From: The Flying U's Last Stand

"I'm looking rather seedy now, while holding down my
claim,
And my grub it isn't always served the best,
And the mice play shyly round me as I lay me down to rest In
my little old sod shanty on my claim.
Oh, the hinges are of leather and the windows have no glass,
And the roof it lets the howling blizzards in,
And I hear the hungry kiote as he sneaks up through
grass--

"Say! have they got down the hill yet, Pink;" Pink took his cigarette
from his fingers, leaned and peered cautiously through the grimy window.
"Unh-huh. They're coming up the flat."

Whereupon Andy Green, ostentatiously washing his breakfast dishes,
skipped two or three verses and lifted his voice in song to fit the
occasion.

"How I wish that some kind-hearted girl would pity on me
take,
And relieve me of the mess that I am in!
Oh, the angel, how I'd bless her if her home with me she'd
make,
In my little old sod shanty--

"Got her yet?" And he craned his neck to look. "Aw, they've pulled up,
out there, listening!"

"My clothes are plastered o'er with dough, I'm looking like a
fright,
And everything is scattered round the room--"

"Why don't yuh stop that caterwauling?" Pink demanded fretfully. "You'll
queer the whole play if you keep it up. They'll swear you're drunk!"

There was sense in that. Andy finished the line about remaining two
happy lovers in his little old sod shanty, and went to the door with the
dishpan. He threw out the water, squeezed the dishrag in one hand and
gave the inside of the pan a swipe before he appeared to discover that
Miss Allen and Florence Grace Hallman were riding up to his door. As a
matter of fact, he had seen them come over the top of the bluff and had
long ago guessed who they were.

He met them with a smile of surprised innocence, and invited them
inside. They refused to come, and even Miss Allen showed a certain
reproachful coolness toward him. Andy felt hurt at that, but he did not
manifest the fact. Instead he informed them that it was a fine morning.
And were they out taking a look around?

They were. They were looking up the men who had perpetrated the outrage
last night upon four settlers.

"Outrage?" Andy tilted the dishpan against the cabin wall, draped the
dishrag over the handle and went forward, pulling down his sleeves.
"What outrage is that, Miss Hallman? Anybody killed?"

Miss Hallman watched him with her narrowed glance. She saw the quick
glance he gave Miss Allen, and her lids narrowed still more. So that
was it! But she did not swerve from her purpose, for all this unexpected
thrust straight to the heart of her self-love.

"You know that no one was killed. But you damaged enough property to
place you on the wrong side of the law, Mr. Green. Not one of those
shacks can be gotten out of the gulch except in pieces!"

Andy smiled inside his soul, but his face was bewildered; his eyes fixed
themselves blankly upon her face. "Me? Damaging property? Miss Hallman,
you don't know me yet!" Which was perfectly true. "What shacks are you
talking about? In what gulch? All the shacks I've seen so far have been
stuck up on bald pinnacles where the blizzards will hit 'em coming
and going next winter." He glanced again at Miss Allen with a certain
sympathetic foretaste of what she would suffer next winter if she stayed
in her shack.

"Don't try to play innocent, Mr. Green." Florence Grace Hallman drew her
brows together. "We all know perfectly well who dragged those shacks off
the claims last night."

"Don't you mean that you think you know? I'm afraid you've kinda taken
it for granted I'd be mixed up in any deviltry you happened to hear
about. I've got in bad with you--I know that--but just the same, I hate
to be accused of everything that takes place in the country. All this is
sure interesting news to me. Whereabouts was they taken from? And when,
and where to? Miss Allen, you'll tell me the straight of this, won't
you? And I'll get my hoss and you'll show me what gulch she's talking
about, won't you?"

Miss Allen puckered her lips into a pout which meant indecision, and
glanced at Florence Grace Hallman. And Miss Hallman frowned at being
shunted into the background and referred to as she, and set her teeth
into her lower lip.

"Miss Allen prefers to choose her own company," she said with distinct
rudeness. "Don't try to wheedle her--you can't do it. And you needn't
get your horse to ride anywhere with us, Mr. Green. It's useless. I just
wanted to warn you that nothing like what happened last night will be
tolerated. We know all about you Flying U men--you Happy Family." She
said it as if she were calling them something perfectly disgraceful.
"You may be just as tough and bad a you please--you can't frighten
anyone into leaving the country or into giving up one iota of their
rights. I came to you because you are undoubtedly the ring-leader of the
gang." She accented gang. "You ought to be shot for what you did
last night. And if you keep on--" She left the contingency to his
imagination.

"Well, if settling up the country means that men are going to be shot
for going to bed at dark and asleeping till sun-up, all I've got to say
is that things ain't like they used to be. We were all plumb peaceful
here till your colony came, Miss Hallman. Why, the sheriff never got out
this way often enough to know the trails! He always had to ask his way
around. If your bunch of town mutts can't behave themselves and leave
each other alone, I don't know what's to be done about it. We ain't
hired to keep the peace."

"No, you've been hired to steal all the land you can and make all the
trouble you can. We understand that perfectly."

Andy shook his head in meek denial, and with a sudden impulse turned
toward the cabin. "Oh, Pink!" he called, and brought that boyish-faced
young man to the door, his eyes as wide and as pure as the eyes of a
child.

Pink lifted his hat with just the proper degree of confusion to impress
the girls with his bashfulness and his awe of their presence. His eyes
were the same pansy-purple as when the Flying U first made tumultuous
acquaintance with him. His apparent innocence had completely fooled the
Happy Family, you will remember. They had called him Mamma's Little Lamb
and had composed poetry and horrific personal history for his benefit.
The few years had not changed him. His hair was still yellow and curly.
The dimples still dodged into his cheeks unexpectedly; he was still much
like a stick of dynamite wrapped in white tissue and tied with a ribbon.
He looked an angel of innocence, and in reality he was a little devil.

Andy introduced him, and Pink bowed and had all the appearance of
blushing--though you will have to ask Pink how he managed to create that
optical illusion. "What did you want?" he asked in his soft, girlish
voice, turning to Andy bashfully. But from the corner of his eye Pink
saw that a little smile of remembrance had come to soften Miss Hallman's
angry features, and that the other girl was smiling also. Pink hated
that attitude of pleasant patronage which women were so apt to take
toward him, but for the present it suited his purpose to encourage it.

"Pink, what time was it when we went to bed last night?" Andy asked him
in the tone of one who wished to eliminate all doubt of his virtue.

"Why--it was pretty early. We didn't light the lamp at all, you
remember. You went to bed before I did--we couldn't see the cards--" He
stopped confusedly, and again he gave the two women the impression that
he blushed. "We weren't playing for money," he hurriedly explained.
"Just for pastime. It's--pretty lonesome--sometimes."

"Somebody did something to somebody last night," Andy informed Pink
with a resentful impatience. "Miss Hallman thinks we're the guilty
parties--me in particular, because she don't like me. It's something
about some shacks--damaging property, she called it. Just what was it
you said was done, Miss Hallman?" He turned his honest, gray eyes toward
her and met her suspicious look steadily.

Miss Hallman bit her lip. She had been perfectly sure of the guilt of
Andy Green, and of the others who were his friends. Now, in spite of
all reason she was not so sure. And there had been nothing more tangible
than two pairs of innocent-looking eyes and the irreproachable manners
of two men to change her conviction.

"Well, I naturally took it for granted that you did it," she weakened.
"The shacks were moved off eighties that you have filed upon, Mr.
Green. Mr. Owens told me this morning that you men came by his place
and threatened him yesterday, and ordered him to move. No one else would
have any object in molesting him or the others." Her voice hardened
again as her mind dwelt upon the circumstances. "It must have been you!"
she finished sharply.

Whereupon Pink gave her a distressed look that made Miss Hallman flush
unmistakably. "I'm just about distracted, this morning," she apologized.
"I took it upon myself to see these settlers through--and everybody
makes it just as hard as possible for me. Why should all you fellows
treat us the way you do? We--"

"Why, we aren't doing a thing!" Pink protested diffidently. "We thought
we'd take up some claims and go to ranching for ourselves, when we
got discharged from the Flying U. We didn't mean any harm--everybody's
taking up claims. We've bought some cattle and we're going to try
and get ahead, like other folks. We--I wanted to cut out all this
wildness--"

"Are those your cattle up on the hill? Some men shipped in four carloads
of young stock, yesterday, to Dry Lake. They drove them out here
intending to turn them on the range, and a couple of men--"

"Four men," Miss Allen corrected with a furtive twinkle in her eyes.

"Some men refused to let them cross that big coulee back there. They
drove the cattle back toward Dry Lake, and told Mr. Simmons and Mr.
Chase and some others that they shouldn't come on this bench back here
at all. That was another thing I wanted to see you men about."

"Maybe they were going to mix their stock up with ours," Pink ventured
mildly.

"Your men shot, and shot, and shot--the atmosphere up there is shot so
full of holes that the wind just whistles through!" Miss Allen informed
then gravely, with her eyebrows all puckered together and the furtive
little twinkle in her eyes. "And they yelled so that we could hear them
from the house! They made those poor cows and those poor, weenty calves
just go trotting back across the coulee. My new book on farming says
you positively must not hurry cattle. It--oh, it does something to the
butter-fat--joggles it all up or something--I'll lend you the book.
I found the chapter on Proper Treatment of Dairy Stock, and I watched
those men with the book in my hands. Why, it was terribly unscientific,
the way they drove those cow-critters!"

"I'll come over and get the book," Andy promised her, with a look in
his eyes that displeased Miss Hallman very much. "We're ashamed of our
ignorance. We'd like to have you learn us what's in the book."

"I will. And every week--just think of that! I'm to get a real farm
paper."

"I'd like to borrow the paper too," Andy declared instantly.

"Oh, and--what's going to be done about all those bullet-holes?
They--they might create a draught--"

"We'll ride around that way and plug 'em up," Andy assured her solemnly.
"Whenever you've got time to show me about where they're at."

"It will be a pleasure. I can tell where they are, but they're too
high for me to reach. Wherever the wind whistles there's a hole in the
atmosphere. And there are places where the air just quivers, so you can
see it. That is the shock those bold, bad men gave it with the words
they used. They--used--words, Mr. Green! If we could scheme some way to
pull out all those wrinkles--I do love a nice, clean, smooth atmosphere
where I live. It's so wrinkly--"

"I'll attend to all that, right away."

Miss Hallman decided that she had nothing further to say to Mr. Green.
She wheeled her horse rather abruptly and rode off with a curt goodbye.
Miss Allen, being new at the business of handling a horse, took more
time in pulling her mount around. While her back was turned to Florence
Grace and her face was turned toward Pink and Andy, she gave them a
twinkling glance that had one lowered eyelid to it, twisted her lips,
and spoke sharply to her horse. They might make of it what they would.
Florence Grace looked back impatiently--perhaps suspiciously also--and
saw Miss Allen coming on with docile haste.

So that ended the interview which Miss Hallman had meant to be so
impressive. A lot of nonsense that left a laugh behind and the idea that
Miss Allen at least did not disapprove of harassing claim-jumpers. Andy
Green was two hundred per cent. more cheerful after that, and his brain
was more active and his determination more fixed. For all that he stared
after them thoughtfully.

"She winked at us--if I've got eyes in my head. What do you reckon she
meant, Pink?" he asked when the two riders had climbed over the ridge.
"And what she said about the bold, bad men shooting holes that have
to be plugged up--and about liking a nice, smooth atmosphere? Do you
suppose she meant that it's liable to take bold, bad men to clean the
atmosphere, or--"

"What difference does it make what she meant? There's jumpers left--two
on Bud's place--and he's oary-eyed over it, and was going to read 'em
the riot act proper, when I left to come over here. And a couple of men
drove onto that south eighty of Mig's with a load of lumber, just as I
come by. Looks to me like we've got our hands full, Andy. There'll be
holes to plug up somewhere besides in the atmosphere, if you ask me."

"Long as they don't get anything on us I ain't in the state of mind
where I give a darn. That little brown-eyed Susan'll keep us posted if
they start anything new--what did she mean by that wink, do you reckon?"

"Ah, don't get softening of the emotions," Pink advised impatiently.
"That's the worst thing we've got to steer clear of, Andy! All them
women in the game is going to make it four times as hard to stand 'em
off. Irish is foolish over this one you're gettin' stuck on--you'll be
fighting each other, if you don't look out. That Florence Grace lady
ain't so slow--she's going to use the women to keep us fellows guessing."

Andy sighed. "We can block that play, of course," he said. "Come on,
Pink, let's go round up the boys and see what's been taking place with
them cattle. Shipped in four carloads already, have they?" He began
pulling on his chaps rather hurriedly. "Worst of it is, you can't
stampede a bunch of darned tame cows, either," he complained.

They found Irish and the Native Son on day-herd, with the cattle
scattered well along the western line of the claims. Big Medicine,
Weary, Cal Emmett and Jack Bates were just returning from driving the
settlers' stock well across Antelope Coulee which had been decided upon
as a hypothetical boundary line until such time as a fence could be
built.

They talked with the day-herders, and they talked with the other four.
Chip came up from the ranch with the Kid riding proudly beside him on
Silver, and told them that the Honorable Mr. Blake was at the Flying U
and had sent word that he would be pleased to take the legal end of
the fight, if the Happy Family so desired. Which was in itself a vast
encouragement. The Honorable Blake had said that they were well within
their rights thus far, and advised them to permit service of the contest
notices, and to go calmly on fulfilling the law. Which was all very well
as far as it went, providing they were permitted to go on calmly.

"What about them cattle they're trying to git across our land?" Slim
wanted to know. "We got a right to keep 'em off, ain't we?"

Chip said that he thought they had, but to make sure, he would ask the
Honorable Blake. Trespassing, he said, might be avoided--

Right there Andy was seized with an idea. He took Chip--because of his
artistic talents which, he said, had been plumb wasted lately--to one
side. After wards they departed in haste, with Pink and Weary galloping
close at their heels. In a couple of hours they returned to the boundary
where the cattle still fed all scattered out in a long line, and behind
them drove Pink and Weary in the one wagon which the Family possessed.

"It oughta help some," grinned Andy, when the Native Son came curiously
over to see what it was they were erecting there on the prairie. "It's a
fair warning, and shows 'em where to head in at."

The Native Son read the sign, which was three feet long and stood nailed
to two posts ready for planting solidly in the earth. He showed his
even, white teeth in a smile of approval. "Back it up, and it ought to
do some good," he said.

They dug holes and set the posts, and drove on to where they meant to
plant another sign exactly like the first. That day they planted twelve
sign-boards along their west line. They might not do any good, but they
were a fair warning and as such were worth the trouble.

That afternoon Andy was riding back along the line when he saw a rider
pull up at the first sign and read it carefully. He galloped in haste to
the spot and found that his suspicions were correct; it was Miss Allen.

"Well," she said when he came near, "I suppose that means me. Does it?"
She pointed to the sign, which read like this:

WARNING!! NO TRESPASSING EAST OF HERE All Shacks, Live-Stock and
Pilgrims Promptly AND Painfully Removed From These Premises

"I'm over the line," she notified him, pulling her horse backward a few
feet. "You're getting awfully particular, seems to me. Oh, did you know
that a lot of men are going to play it's New Year's Eve and hold watch
meetings tonight?"

"Never heard a word about it," he declared truthfully, and waited for
more.

"That's not strange--seeing it's a surprise party. Still--I'm sure you
are expected to--attend."

"And where is all this to take place?" Andy looked at her intently,
smiling a little.

"Oh, over there--and there--and there." She pointed to three new
shacks--the official dwellings of certain contestants. "Stag parties,
they are, I believe. But I doubt if they'll have any very exciting time;
most of these new settlers are too busy getting the ground ready for
crops, to go to parties. Some people are pretty disgusted, I can tell
you, Mr. Green. Some people talk about ingratitude and wonder why the
colony doesn't hang together better. Some people even wonder why it is
that folks are interested mainly in their own affairs, and decline to
attend watch meetings and--receptions. So I'm afraid very few, except
your nearest neighbors, will be present, after all might I ask when you
expect to--to MOVE again, Mr. Green?"

Smiling still, Andy shook his head. "I expect to be pretty busy this
spring," he told her evasively. "Aren't any of you ladies invited to
those parties, Miss Allen?"

"Not a one. But let me tell you something, Mr. Green. Some folks think
that perhaps we lady-settlers ought to organize a club for the well
being of our intellects. Some folks are trying to get up parties
just for women--see the point? They think it would be better for
the--atmosphere."

"Oh." Andy studied the possibilities of such a move. If Florence Grace
should set the women after them, he could see how the Happy Family would
be hampered at every turn. "Well, I must be going. Say, did you know
this country is full of wild animals, Miss Allen? They prowl around
nights. And there's a gang of wild men that hang out up there in those
mountains--they prowl around nights, too. They're outlaws. They kill
off every sheriff's party that tries to round them up, and they kidnap
children and ladies. If you should hear any disturbance, any time, don't
be scared. Just stay inside after dark and keep your door locked. And if
you should organize that ladies' club, you better hold your meetings in
the afternoon, don't you think?"

When he had ridden on and left her, Andy was somewhat ashamed of such
puerile falsehoods. But then, she had started the allegorical method of
imparting advice, he remembered. So presently went whistling to round up
the boys and tell them what he had learned.





Next: Irish Works For The Cause

Previous: A Moving Chapter In Events



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