anaheim-gazette 1931-06-04

TIGER EYE---A Thrilling Story of the Cattle Ride By B. M. BOWER Tenth Installment Bob Reeves, the Kid, was nicknamed Tiger Eye by his friends down in the Brazos country because his "gun-eye" was yellow. When his father, "Killer Reeves," died the Kid left Texas to avoid continuing his father's feuds. Reaching Montana he is forced to draw on Nate Wheeler, an irate nester. In the exchange of shots Wheeler drops dead, the Kid later learning that Bob Garner who had also shot at the same time, really killed Wheeler. Garner gets the Kid to join the Poole outfit as a rim rider. The Kid succors Wheeler's widow and is interrupted by Pete Gorham through both ears for coupling his name with Wheeler's widow. Later he rescues a girl, Nelle, and her dad from Gorham, wounding Pete again. The girl, in spite of her belief the Kid is an imported Texas killer, warns him the nesters will kill him. He meets Jess Markel, a Texan who is boss of the Poole wagon crew and shoots him through both hands. Nelle's dad is shot from ambush and suspects Babe against his wish. The latter thinks another nester killed the old man. Babe is wounded by hidden enemies, who also shoot at Tiger Eye but miss. The Kid pulls Babe back into the cabin and wounds one of the attackers. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY "Babe's woke up." The kid lowered the mouth organ from his lips, heavying a big sigh as he wiped it on his sleeve and slid it into his pocket. He sighed again as he rose, hitched up his gun belt and looked gravely down at her. "We all could get outa heah easy if it was just us two. But kain't leave Babe. He's been pow'ful good to me, Babe has—" "Of course, we can't leave him. They'd kill him sure, and there's been too much killing already. We'll make it somehow. I--you can just do anything, Tiger Eye!" "Shoah feel like I could, from now awn," said the kid, looking at her files buzzed in and out through the shattered panes, where rifle bullets had buzzed in yesterday. The log walls were scarred with the thin leaden hall that had beaten intermittently against the cabin. The kid swung toward the bunk and looked at the pillow still nested to the shape of Babe's sleek black head. The muscles tightened along his jaw. Babe wouldn't have liked the look in the kid's eyes just then. Crazy as he had been from fever, Babe would have sensed the deadly quality in the kid's arrested glance, the tiger eye round and staring. He got his own pillow an dtucked it savagely under his arm. The nights when he had laid his head down beside Babe's in contented comradeship fairly slipped him in the face now with a bitter contempt for his blind faith. And when he talks like you're the one that did the killing—when he talks like that right before Nelle, and makes her so crazy mad she starts in quirting you over the head and calling you a killer, just because she's only a girl and can't shoot you down like a dog. It's something worse than hate you feel toward him. Babe-had brains sharper than any old he-wolf, but his brains sure weren't working last night, when he made that talk up there on the Bench. Most men would have shot Babe right then and there. They wouldn't have cared a damn about his being drilled through the middle and plumb out of his head. But even with the welts of Nelle Murray's quilt on his cheek and the lash of her contempt searing his heart, the kid couldn't pull his gun and send a bullet into Babe Garner, wounded and saggingly against the rope that held him tied on his horse. That would be putting himself down. There had to be a spree. He found it, ice cold in a niche of the cliff of the back wall of the house. He also saw a rock swelling out like a great its narrow neck of a enough to let a hayrau out scraping the wall. The kid climbed upon the wall for five minutes he gave lost paradise. Lost far from home be found by him while most. It took the kid nearly the place habitable, therously from sunrise dark to see what he was doing him two days to find the intricate network of intricate network of o open range beyond. The kid drilled himself in the twisted canyons and let the sword awhile over the unsuspecting paid killers of Nelle wonder awhile of him, too. He reckon hurt her to wonder an to guess plumb wrong it to her, when he got Continued Next He sighed again as he rose, hitched up his gun belt and looked gravely down at her. "We all could get outa heath easy if it was just us two. But kain't leave Babe. He's been pow'ful good to me, Babe has—" "Of course, we can't leave him. They'd kill him sure, and there's been too much killing already. We'll make it somehow. I-you can just do anything, Tiger Eye!" "Shoah feel like I could, from now awn," said the kid, looking at her with shy meaning, and started to climb. "We'll make it." he called softly down to her. "We've plumb got to make it!" They did make it. Down the gully, with Babe tied on his horse, insensible to pain or motion. Fifty yards, a hundred, with the rifles on the ridge barking foolishly at the empty cabin. The sun went down behind the rim, the daylight was merging into dusk when the kid forced the horses up the steep bank. "Say, where do you think you're goin', Tiger Eye?" Babe roused suddenly to consciousness and speech when they stopped beside Nellie's horse, circling the rock anxiously in the starlight. "Reckon we'll go awn ovah to the Poole, Babe." "What you goin' to the Poole all of a sudden for?" Babe's voice sharpened. "Think you'll beat me to the bounty? You've got another think comin' Kid. I'll do the collectin' on this one." "Don't know what yo'all talking about, Babe." The kid glanced uneasily toward Nellie. "I'm totin' yo'all ovah to the Poole account of that bullet hole in yoh side." "You're a damned liar!" Babe's voice was abnormally loud and distinct. Nellie, mounting her horse, reined close to listen. "You're goin to try and gyp me outa my money for old Murray. You can have the pay for gettin' Ed. Murray, if you want to be on the grab, but I'll be damned if you're going to collect fo rthe old man! "Oh, you--you flend!" Nellie forced the words out through her clenched teeth. "Paid killers, both of you!" "Ain't paid yet, but I'm sure as hell goin' to be. Damn right!" The feble strength that had upheld Babe for a minute began to ebb. He swayed in the saddle. "Dirty work—and it's money talks, in this neck uh the woods. Damm right I'll be paid! Tiger Eye ain't goin' to get the best—the best of me—he can't—" His head lolled on his chest then, as his body sagged against the ropes that held him in the saddle. "You killer!" Nellie jumped her horse toward the kid. She pulled her quirt from the saddle horn, and she struck him across the face; swift, slashing blows which the kid never felt at all, save in the heart of him. He just stood there in the starlight and held the frightened horse quiet, while the quirt he had given her left its mark on neck and shoulder and sure weren't working last night, when he made that talk up there on the Bench. Most men would have shot Babe right then and there. They wouldn't have cared a damn about his being drilled through the middle and plumb out of his head. But even with the welts of Nellie Murray's quilt on his cheek and the lash of her contempt searing his heart, the kid couldn't pull his gun and send a bullet into Babe Garner, wounded and saggingly against the rope that held him tied on his horse. That would be putting himself down on a level with Babe, killing a man that hasn't any chance to shoot back. Had to go on and take Babe to the Poole ranch, same as if he were a friend. The kid rolled himself a cigarette, lighted in with a match held steady in his fingers, picked up his rifle where it stood leaning against the cabin beside the door, slid it into the scabbard on his saddle and mounted. Where he was going, he did not know or care. His hand went up suddenly to a lividwelt across his cheek. He hadn't earned that cut of Nellie's quilt. His quirt, if you come right down to it. Braided in pride and high hopes on the Brazos last winter, before Pap and Ben were shot. Never did think that quirt he had braided would be laid across his own cheek with all the strength there was in a girl's arm. Another half inch and it would have lost him that yellow tiger eye of his—and that, too, would have been something he hadn't earned. "She nevah will call me a paid killah no moah," he told himself savagely. "She'll heath things about Tiger Eye Reeves that will shoah prove I'm death on killahs. Poole or nestah, it's all the same to me from now awn. She'll know—and she'll know why!" She'd shiver too. He'd have her eating crow before the summer was over. She'd be ready to go down on her knees to him. He'd show her he wasn't called Tiger Eye for nothing. He'd shoo make that name mean something more than just the color of his eye. They'd remember that old Killer Reeves down on the Brazos was his pap, and they'd say the father wasn't a patch to the son, Yes, sir, they all better hunt their holes now. Poole killers and nesters! They'd pushed him too far. A shoa-h-enough tiger was loose on the range, and every man was his meat. He pulled his hat down over his eyebrows and reined away from the valley rim. To the north there rose a huddle of timbered buttes with deep-set canyons between. Ten miles, no more, from the valley; twelve or fifteen from the headquarters ranch of the Poole. There should be some sequestered little nook in there where he could make his lair. The kid's fingers lifted again to that welt slanting down across his cheek. One last glimpse he had of the low ridge and the line of cottonwoods down there in the valley, and then the rain blotted the place from his sight. Before dark he camped in a thick grove of young trees that grew here weren't working last night, when he made that talk up there on the Bench. Most men would have shot Babe right then and there. They wouldn't have cared a damn about his being drilled through the middle and plumb out of his head. But even with the welts of Nellie Murray's quilt on his cheek and the lash of her contempt searing his heart, the kid couldn't pull his gun and send a bullet into Babe Garner, wounded and saggingly against the rope that held him tied on his horse. That would be putting himself down on a level with Babe, killing a man that hasn't any chance to shoot back. Had to go on and take Babe to the Poole ranch, same as if he were a friend. The kid rolled himself a cigarette, lighted in with a match held steady in his fingers, pickup up his rifle where it stood leaning against the cabin beside the door, slid it into the scabbard on his saddle and mounted. Where he was going, he did not know or care. His hand went up suddenly to a lividwelt across his cheek. He hadn't earned that cut of Nellie's quilt. His quirt, if you come right down to it. Braided in pride and high hopes on the Brazos last winter, before Pap and Ben were shot. Never did think that quirt he had braided would be laid across his own cheek with all the strength there was in a girl's arm. Another half inch and it would have lost him that yellow tiger eye of his—and that, too, would have been something he hadn't earned. "She nevah will call me a paid killah no moah," he told himself savagely. "She'll heath things about Tiger Eeye Reeves that will shoah prove I'm death on killahs. Poole or nestah, it's all the same to me from now awn. She'll know—and she'll know why!" She'd shiver too. He'd have her eating crow before the summer was over. She'd be ready to go down on her knees to him. He'd show her he wasn't called Tiger Eeye for nothing. He'd shoo make that name mean something more than just the color of his eye. They'd remember that old Killer Reeves down on the Brazos was his pap, and they'd say the father wasn't a patch to the son, Yes, sir, they all better hunt their holes now. Poole killers and nesters! They'd pushed him too far. A shoa-enough tiger was loose on the range, and every man was his meat. He pulled his hat down over his eyebrows and reined away from the valley rim. To the north there rose a huddle of timbered buttes with deep-set canyons between. Ten miles, no more, from the valley; twelve or fifteen from the headquarters ranch of the Poole. There should be some sequestered little nook in there where he could make his lair. The kid's fingers lifted again to that welt slanting down across his cheek. One last glimpse he had of the low ridge and the line of cottonwoods down there in the valley, and then the rain blotted the place from his sight. Before dark he camped in a thick grove of young trees that grew here weren't working last night, when he made that talk up there on the Bench. Most men would have shot Babe right then and there. They wouldn't have cared a damn about his being drilled through the middle and plumb out of his head. But even with the welts of Nellie Murray's quilt on his cheek and the lash of her contempt searing his heart, the kid couldn't pull his gun and send a bullet into Babe Garner, wounded and saggingly against the rope that held him tied on his horse. That would be putting himself down on a level with Babe, killing a man that hasn't any chance to shoot back. Had to go on and take Babe to the Poole ranch, same as if he were a friend. The kid rolled himself a cigarette, lighted in with a match held steady in his fingers, pickup up his rifle where it stood leaning against the cabin beside the door, slid it into the scabbard on his saddle and mounted. Where he was going, he did not know or care. His hand went up suddenly to a lividwelt across his cheek. He hadn't earned that cut of Nellie's quilt. His quirt, if you come right down to it. Braided in pride and high hopes on the Brazos last winter, before Pap and Ben were shot. Never did think that quirt he had braided would be laid across his own cheek with all the strength there was in a girl's arm. Another half inch and it would have lost him that yellow tiger eye of his—and that, too, would have been something he hadn't earned. "She nevah will call me a paid killah no moah," he told himself savagely. "She'll heath things about Tiger Eeye Reeves that will shoah prove I'm death on killahs. Poole or nestah, it's all the same to me from now awn. She'll know—and she'll know why!" She'd shiver too. He'd have her eating crow before the summer was over. She'd be ready to go down on her knees to him. He'd show her he wasn't called Tiger Eeye for nothing. He'd shoo make that name mean something more than just the color of his eye. They'd remember that old Killer Reeves down on the Brazos was his pap, and they'd say the father wasn't a patch to the son, Yes, sir, they all better hunt their holes now. Poole killers and nesters! They'd pushed him too far. A shoa-enough tiger was loose on the range, and every man was his meat. He pulled his hat down over his eyebrows and reined away from the valley rim. To the north there rose a huddle of timbered buttes with deep-set canyons between. Ten miles, no more, from the valley; twelve or fifteen from the headquarters ranch of the Poole. There should be some sequestered little nook in there where he could make his lair. The kid's fingers lifted again to that welt slanting down across his cheek. One last glimpse he had of the low ridge and the line of cottonwoods down there in the valley, and then the rain blotted the place from his sight. Before dark he camped in a thick grove of young trees that grew here weren't working last night, when he made that talk up there on the Bench. Most men would have shot Babe right then and there. They wouldn't have cared a damn about his being drilled through the middle and plumb out of its head. But even with the welts of Nellie Murray's quilt on his cheek and the lash of her contempt searing his heart, the kid couldn't pull his gun and send a bullet into Babe Garner, wounded and saggingly against the rope that held him tied on its head. That would be putting himself down on a level with Babe, killing a man that hasn't any chance to shoot back. Had to go on and take Babe to the Poole ranch, same as if he were a friend. The kid rolled himself a cigarette, lighted in with a match held steady in his fingers, pickup up his rifle where it stood leaning against the cabin beside the door, slid it into the scabbard on its saddle and mounted. Where he was going, he did not know or care. His hand went up suddenly to a lividwelt across its head worn over its skin worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by hair worn by Damn right I'll be paid! Tiger Eye ain't goin' to get the best—the best of me—he can't." His head lolled on his chest then, as his body sagged against the ropes that held him in the saddle. "You killer!" Nellie jumped her horse toward the kid. She pulled her quirt from the saddle horn, and she struck him across the face; swift, slashing blows which the kid never felt at all, save in the heart of him. He just stood there in the starlight and held the frightened horse quiet, while the quirt he had given her left its mark on neck and shoulder and check. "And I trusted you like a fool—and thought you were good!" With one final blow her arm fell to her side as if in despair at ever wreaking vengeance upon him. "Shoot me now, why don't you? I'll turn my back!" "You'll's crazy as Babe." The soft drawl of his voice had a chill. "Yoh brothah was shot befo' I evah came into the country. I nevah did kill a man in my life—but I'm plumb tempted to right now, lessen he's dald a'ready." "Why? Because he gave you away?" Her voice shook with stubborn rage. "You all knows bettah than that, Miss Murray. You'll know in yoh own mind I nevah blamed a livin' soul." He leaned forward staring up into her face with a cold intensity that thrilled her with something like fear. "But that ain't sayin' what I will do fom now awn." "Bob! If you didn't—if I knew—" "Evenin', Ma'am. You all knows the way home." He loosed the bridle and struck her horse on the rump with the flat of his hand and watched her go, and the thud of hoofbeats on the prairies fell like blows upon his heart. When no sound came back to him, the kid mounted Pecos, took Babe's bridle reins in his hand and rode away into the night. The kid was pulling out, but he was taking his time about it and he was not leaving anything he owned behind him. With his gray hat set low over the utter misery in his eyes, he stood in the middle of the cabin at Cold Spring and his lowering glance moved slowly around the room, just to make sure that he had not missed any of his possessions. It was not a cheerful looking place. The glass from the one window lay in splintered fragments on the oilcloth table cover, and a few early To the north there rose a huddle of timbered butts with deep-set canyons between. Ten miles, no more, from the valley; twelve or fifteen from the headquarters ranch of the Poole. There should be some sequestered little nook in there where he could make his lair. The kid's fingers lifted again to that welt slanting down across his cheek. One last glimpse he had of the low ridge and the line of cottonwoods down there in the valley, and then the rain blotted the place from his sight. Before dark he camped in a thick grove of young spruces that grew beside a natural meadow. He slept, his quilt-scarred cheek cuddled in the crook of his arm—and dreamed of making love to Nellie Murray. Dreamed that she was going to marry him, and they planned the homestead they would take in Wolfe Buttes somewhere, and how they would build themselves a ranch with honeysuckle vines all over the cabin. It was morning and it was raining with a cold, steady drip on the spruce boughs that sheltered him like a thacht-ed roof. Another day of hunting a den for the tiger that would be a scourge to all killers. The kid fished blindly under the blankets for his hat, found it and put it on as he sat up. He crawled out of his blankets, buckling his gun belt around him with vicious tugs of the strap. He stood up tall and full of pirde in the man who wouldn't kill because he didn't want to kill. Didn't have to kill to make men afraid of him. They'd look over their shoulder when they spoke his name, and when any one mentioned the Brazos they'd look at each other, thinking that was where Tiger Eye came from. All that day it rained in windy gusts, with periods of quiet drizzle between. That afternoon he came upon the place he was hoping to find. A rock cabin built of fragments of the cliff it hugged close. Half the roof had fallen in. It was the upended ridgepole with a corner of the roof attached and showing above the bushes that had caught the kid's attention when he looked that way. Except for that telltale fragment, the cabin was absolutely hidden in the thicket. When he looked beyond, he saw where there had been a corral and a stable, all built of rock cunningly piled for strength and concealment. All of these European many of the monarchies and different systems Europe is an experiment democracy. None of them errants is universally the speed with which they indicate that. The ment in the world while for more than 150 years rial change of form is United States of America all like everything about government, but it seems us pretty well. ABILITY The biggest task forives, says Chris L. Chathery of the Federal Fishing finding the right men to The trouble here, as in business, is that most men are just as able as as "Men are commanding in the cooperative move Christensen. These are hard times, men have been thrown off the closing down of where they had jobs. Eeral men who immediate jobs than they had even because they were exe Indeed, I know of no real top-notcher in his being constantly offered to go with somebody friend of mine, in the business recently got another's company. H $125,000 a year; the offered to double that. half a million a year contract to stay with employers. He has also company recognizes it. EARTH The National Research posed of America's forest has determined the age be just about 1,852,000, figure differs from estimate some others, which ran from a hundred million trillions. The Research climate, however, is not work. It is easy to determine rocks which give off rad Thrilling Story the Cattle Ranges R There had to be a spring too, of course. He found it, ice cold and crystal clear, in a niche of the cliff that was a part of the back wall of the cabin. He also saw a rock-walled meadow swelling out like a great fat jug below its narrow neck of a pass not wide enough to let a hayrack through without scraping the wall on either side. The kid climbed upon a bowlder and for five minutes he gazed out over this lost paradise. Lost from the world, to be found by him when he needed it most. It took the kid nearly a week to make the place habitable, though he worked furiously from sunrise until it was too dark to see what he was doing. It took him two days to find his way out of the intricate network of canyons to the intricate network of canyons to the open range beyond. The kid drilled himself and his horses in the twisted canyons of Wolf Buttes, and let the sword of justice dangle awhile over the unsuspecting heads of the paid killers of the Poole. Let Nellie wonder awhile what had become of him, too. He reckoned it wouldn't hurt her to wonder and guess. Bound to guess plumb wrong, and he'd prove it to her, when he got good and ready. Continued Next Week by calculating the proportion of lead to uranium contained in them. There is ground for belief that all of the uranium on earth was a part of this planet when it was torn from the body of the sun by a passing giant star. Hence, if we can find the oldest uranium-bearing rock and calculate its age we can come close to telling how long ago the earth became a separate unit in the solar system. The oldest such rock so far found is in Russia, and the figure reached as a result of its examination is the one I have cited. How much longer the earth will last is another question, for which there is less solid basis for an answer. It will be hundreds of millions of years, beyond doubt, but whether it will be habitable for human beings until the end of time is still debatable. ROSENDAHL America's airship expert is Commander Charles E. Rosendahl, who will command the new Navy dirigible now almost completed at Akron, Ohio. Of German descent, born in Chicago, reared in Texas, a graduate of Annapolis, Commander Rosendahl has spent 3,333 hours in the air on dirigible balloons and airships of all types. He commanded the Los Angeles, which was built in Germany and came to us as spoils of war, on its longest flights. He was a passenger on the Graf Zeppelin when that airship flew from Germany to America. He was in command of the Shenandoah, the largest airship ever built in this country, when it broke in two in a thunderstorm. The end that Rosendahl was in remained aloft and he navigated it like a free balloon to a safe landing. The new Goodyear-Zeppelin which he will pilot is four times as large as the largest airship now in existence. It comes up to expectations it will be the forerunner of a fleet of American-built aircraft running on regular routes carrying passengers and mails to Europe and back. Effective Disguise Policeman Andrew Brill found women raided Germantown (Pa.) speakeasies. Poultry Institute at Pomona, June 19 The annual Southern California Poultry Institute will be held at Ganesha Park, Pomona, on Friday, June 19, according to W. M. Cory, assistant farm advisor. A fine group of speakers is being lined up for this program, which will begin at 9 A.M. with a visit to the Poultry Experimental Farm, on Lewis Street not far from the park. The speaking will begin at the park at 10 A.M. Poultrymen are asked to bring their lunch for picnic dinner at noon. scarf but it might be used effectively on a child's dress or a sports dress for yourself. Care must be taken to cut the applique pieces quite evenly and to have them well pressed. Turn the edges under about a quarter of an inch, and attach with a small basting stitch in position on the material. Do not attempt to baste around the edges as this will only interfere with the applique stitches. When all the pieces have been put in place work around the edges with even over and over stitches. Work a straight line in black in each. Poultry Institute at Pomona, June 19 The annual Southern California Poultry Institute will be held at Ganesha Park, Pomona, on Friday, June 19, according to W. M. Cory, assistant farm advisor. A fine group of speakers is being lined up for this program, which will begin at 9 A.M. with a visit to the Poultry Experimental Farm, on Lewis Street not far from the park. The speaking will begin at the park at 10 A.M. Poultrymen are asked to bring their lunch for picnic dinner at noon. TODAY TOMORROW FRANK PARKER STOCKBRIDGE DERBY I was one of fifty thousand people who saw Twenty Grand win the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs. It was a unique race because the best horse won and broke a track record and became the winner was also the favorite. It was the betting rather than the beautiful spectacle that interested the crowd. Without betting there would be no horse races. Kontuckians are still disputing how to pronounce the name of this race. They always called it Durby until the English Earl of Derby visited the track last year. He pronounced it as if the second letter were 'A', so half the spectators at the race used the English pronunciation. More interesting than the racing was a flight over the track by a young lady in an autogiro, which landed in the middle of the field. KINGS There are now more republics in Europe than there are monarchies, for the first time in history. Seventeen to fifteen is the exact proportion. True, some of the republics, like Estonia, Latvia, and little San Marino and Andorra are pretty small nations; Andorra has only 191 square miles, which is only two-thirds the area of New York City, while San Marino has only 38 square miles, just 1,280 acres larger than the standard western county of 36 square miles. But there are some tiny kingdoms, too. The smallest independent nation in the world, Monaco, is a monarchy consisting of just one square mile of 640 acres! The principality of Liechtenstein has only 65 square miles and the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg only 999. All of these European republics and many of the monarchies are trying new and different systems of government. Europe is an experiment station of democracy. None of the existing governments is universally satisfactory; the speed with which the people change them indicates that. The only government in the world which has endured for more than 150 years without material change of form is that of the United States of America. We may not all like everything about our own government, but it seems to suit most of us pretty well. VERY LATEST by Mary Marshall The new Goodyear-Zeppelin which he will pilot is four times as large as the largest airship now in existence. It comes up to expectations it will be the forerunner of a fleet of American-built aircraft running on regular routes carrying passengers and mails to Europe and back. The annual Southern California Poultry Institute will be held at Ganesha Park, Pomona, on Friday, June 19, according to W. M. Cory, assistant farm advisor. A fine group of speakers is being lined up for this program, which will begin at 9 A.M. with a visit to the Poultry Experimental Farm, on Lewis Street not far from the park. The speaking will begin at the park at 10 A.M. Poultrymen are asked to bring their lunch for picnic dinner at noon. The Pomona Chamber of Commerce will furnish coffee. Dr. Theodore Macklin, noted expert on cooperative marketing, will be one of the leading speakers. Dr. Macklin has been of great assistance to the Federal Farm Board and to a number of California Co-operative Associations the past year. Prof. E. C. Voorhles, noted agricultural economist from the University of California, will speak on the A.B.C.Bu For Quick Reference Lookup Business or Professional Anaheim Gazette Bus and BIG AUCTION Every Saturday at 2 and 7:30 p.m., at Jack Martin's Auction House, 137 S. Lemon, Phone 3220. Private sales all the time For Cash or Easy Terms. Buy Anything—Sell Anything. "The Bargain Spot of Orange Co." Jack Martin, Prop. IRISH AUCTIONEER Automobile Wrecking Curran Auto Wrecking Co. L. A. at Palm, Anaheim 3101 Battery Business H. D. Hushman, Willard Batteries, 419 W Center St., Anaheim 3503 Brake Service Specialists Ford's Automotive Service, Ltd., 214 S. Los Angeles, Anaheim 4418 Chiropractors The Pintlers, Chiropractors, 250 E. Center, Anaheim 3413 Cleaning Business Saveway Cleaners 313 E. Center, Anaheim 4413 Funeral Directors All of these European republics and many of the monarchies are trying new and different systems of government. Europe is an experiment station of democracy. None of the existing governments is universally satisfactory; the speed with which the people change them indicates that. The only government in the world which has endured for more than 150 years without material change of form is that of the United States of America. We may not all like everything about our own government, but it seems to suit most of us pretty well. ABILITY The biggest task for farm cooperatives, says Chris L. Christensen, secretary of the Federal Farm Board, is finding the right men to manage them. The trouble here, as in other fields of business, is that most men think they are just as able as any other man. "Men are commanding a high premium in the cooperative movement," says Mr. Christensen. These are hard times, and many good men have been thrown out of work by the closing down of the enterprises where they had jobs. But I know several men who immediately got better jobs than they had ever dreamed of, because they were exceptionally able. Indeed, I know of no man who was a real top-notcher in his line, who is not being constantly offered more money to go with somebody else. One old friend of mine, in the motion picture business recently got an offer from another's company. He was getting $125,000 a year; the rival company offered to double that. "We'll give you half a million a year and a five-year contract to stay with us," said his old employers. He has ability, and his company recognizes it. EARTH The National Research Council composed of America's foremost scientists, has determined the age of the earth to be just about 1,852,000,000 years. That figure differs from estimates made by some others, which range all the way from a hundred million years to seven trillions. The Research Council estimate, however, is not based on guesswork. It is easy to determine the age of rocks which give off radium emanations, How to train BABY'S BOWELS Babies, bottle-fed or breast-fed, with any tendency to be constipated, would thrive if they received daily, half a teaspoonful of this old family doctor's prescription for the bowels. That is one sure way to train tiny bowels to healthy regularity. To avoid the frettfulness, vomiting, crying, failure to gain, and other ills of constipated babies. Dr. Caldwell's Syrup Pepsin is good for any baby. For this, you have the word of a famous doctor. Forty-seven years of practice taught him just what babies need to keep their little bowels active, regular; keep little bodies plump and healthy. For Dr. Caldwell specialized in the treatment of women and little ones. He attended over 3500 births without loss of one mother or baby. Dr. W. B. Caldwell's SYRUP PEPSIN A Doctor's Family Lexitive Battery Business H. D. Hushman, Willard Batteries, 419 W Center St., Anaheim 3503 Brake Service Specialists Ford's Automotive Service, Ltd., 214 S. Los Angeles, Anaheim 4418 Chiropractors The Pintlers, Chiropractors 250 E. Center, Anaheim 3413 Cleaning Business Saveway Cleaners 313 E. Center, Anaheim 4413 Funeral Directors Ambulance Service—Day or Night Phone 3209 Backs, Terry & Campbell FUNERAL DIRECTORS H. P. CAMPBELL, Resident Director 251 No. Lemon St., Anaheim, Calif. DeLuxe Ambulance Service Telephone 4105 HILGENFELD'S FUNERAL HOME South Lemon at Broadway Anaheim, California ANAHEIM FEED A Dealers in GRAIN FLOUR SEEDS WOOD COAL HAY W. D. GR Effective Disguise of Cop Andrew Brill found women's clothes a great help when he known (Pa.) speakeasies. The pictures are both of Brill. Aches and PAINS! When you take Bayer Aspirin you are sure of two things. It's sure relief, and it's harmless. Those tablets with the Bayer cross do not hurt the heart. Take them whenever you suffer from: Headaches Neuritis Colds Neuralgia Sore Throat Lumbago Rheumatism Toothache When your head aches—from any cause—when a cold has settled in your joints, or you feel those deep-down pains of rheumatism, sciatica, or lumbago, take Bayer Aspirin and get real relief. If the package says Bayer, it's genuine. And genuine Bayer Aspirin is safe. Aspirin is the trade-mark of Bayer manufacture of monoaceticacidester of salicylicicacid. BEWARE OF IMITATIONS Bayer Tablets Aspirin Genuine Poultrymen all over Southern California are much interested in the institute and an unusually large attendance is expected. Things move so swiftly in South American politics that we suppose the first thing a new President down there does is locate the back door just to be ready.—New York Post. DR. G. W. CLOSSON VETERINARIAN DOG AND CAT HOSPITAL All Animals Treated 913 N. Los Angeles St. Phone 3914 Anahlem, California D. C. Business Directory Reference Look Under Alphabetical Classification of the Uses or Profession You Are Seeking. You'll Find This Gazette Business Directory Reliable, Convenient and Profitable. Use it. Funiture—Used J. P. Glenn 124 W. Wilshire, Fullerton 51 Garage Business Glenn Updyke 134 W. Commonwealth, Fullerton 55 Hospitals Johnston-Wickett Clinic ANAHEIM, CALIF. Hours: 8:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M. Insurance Business Mrs. George L. Story 304 Chapman Bldg., Fullerton 281-J Jewelry Business Wiseman Jewelers 223 W. Center, Anaheim 3308 Physicians & Surgeons Office Hours: 9 to 12-2 to 5 Telephone 4922 DR. W. W. ADAMS OSTEOPATH 401 Bank of America Bldg., Anaheim Phone 3212 Open Evenings Sunday by Appointment DR. OSHER PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Dentist—Painless Extraction. Ocullus—Glasses Fitted. 107½ E. Center St., Anaheim, Cali ANAHEIM, CALIF. Hours: 8:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M. Insurance Business Mrs. George L. Story 304 Chapman Bldg., Fullerton 281-J Jewelry Business Wiseman Jewelers 223 W. Center, Anaheim 3308 Music Business Waller Music Shop 158 W Center, Anaheim 3306 Optometrists Dr. Loerch Jr. 222 N. Broadway, Santa Ana 2586 Homer A. Nelson, Opt. D. 114 N. Lemon St., Anaheim 3104 Paint Business When You Want— a good painter, or paperhanger; good paint, varnish, lacquer or wallpaper, call the National Lead Co. OF CALIFORNIA Successors to BASS-HUETER PAINT COMPANY 121 East Center St. Anaheim Phone 2706 Fullerton Paint & Paper Co. 212 N. Spadra, Fullerton 477 Photographers Betzsold Studio 116 E. Center, Phone Anaheim 2530 EIM FEED AND FUEL CO. Phone 3210 W. D. GRAFTON, Prop. Public Weighing Scales Phone 3212 Open Evenings Sunday by Appointment DR. OSHER PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Dentist—Painless Extraction. Ocullus—Glasses Flitted. 107½ E. Center St., Anaheim, Calif. Office Phone 3213 Residence 887 S. Los Angeles St. Residence Phone 2610 Hours: 11-12; 2-4; 7-8 J. W. Truxaw, M.D. Physician and Surgeon Golden State Bank Bldg. Cor. Center and Los Angeles Sts. Anaheim, California Sash and Doors Nagel-Gohres & Co. 418 S. Lemon St., Anaheim 2403 Used Cars Glen A. Peck, Used Cars. 333 W. Center, Anaheim 4102 Advertising Pays if It's in The Gazette Grain storage capacity at 14 of the largest U.S. markets will amount to more than 350,000,000 bushels by the time the new crop moves. It is never wise to deprive the family of plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables for the sake of canning a bigger supply. The reason that most Senators don't do any great damage with their speech-making is that they are over-trained. They are now talking about a life term for Von Hinderberg—but they mean in the German presidential chair.