Memphis World Memphis World Publishing Co. 1958-03-05 Thaddeus T. Stokes MEMPHIS WORLD AMERICAN'S STANDARD RACE JOURNAL The South's Oldest and Leading Colored Semi-Weekly Newspaper Published by MEMPHIS WORLD PUBLISHING CO. Every WEDNESDAY and SATURDAY at 546 BEALE — Ph. JA. 6-4030 Member of SCOTT NEWSPAPER SYNDICATE W. A. Scott, II, Founder; C. A. Scott General Manager Entered in the Post Office at Memphis, Tenn., as second-class mail under the Act of Congress, March 1, 1870 THADDEUS T. STOKES Managing Editor SMITH FLEMING Circulation Manager SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Year $5.00 — 6 Months $3.00 — 3 Months $1.50 (In Advance) The MEMPHIS WORLD is an independent newspaper — non-sectarian and non-partisan, printing news unbiasedly and supporting those things it believes to be of interest to its readers and opposing those things against the interest of its readers. The Appointment Of Negro Postmasters For over half a century Negroes have-figured more prominently in the United States Civil Service than in any other department of government. A generation ago, a look-see into the mail trains and the city post offices would disclose the faces of colored men carrying their portion in the distribution of the United States mails. Today it will be observed that in the Civil Service, there are still excellent accounts our racial group is giving of itself in the honorable trust involved in the handling of the mail. In our own local post office we have Negro foremen of crews, head of post office station, and in other capacities than mere distributors of the mails. That would speak for itself as to the honor, deservedness and capabilities of the Negro anywhere in the agenda of the mail service. It is quite befitting, therefore, for Congressman Diggs of Detroit to cause an inquiry into the closing of a post office down in Alabama a few miles from Mobile, known as Magazine, Alabama, allegedly because all the white folks moved out of the town. It is stated there are still industries and plenty of citizens to be served at Magazine; that other arrangements have been made for the distribution of the mails purely upon the grounds to get around the appointment of a Negro postmaster at Magazine. A Negro man, Monroe B. Morton once held the postmastership at Athens, Georgia, the seat of the University of Georgia. Bishop Turner was once appointed postmaster at Macon, Georgia. On a few occasions Negroes have successfully carried RFD routes; one in Russell county, Alabama, just across the river from Columbus, Georgia. President Theodore Roosevelt appointed a colored lady as postmistress in Mississippi at one time. The verdict of Joseph A. Clarke, who has been appointed to probe conditions surrounding the liquidation of the Magazine, Ala., post office is awaited. Being what he is, one of the administrators looking to the end of economy in postal service, he can be trusted to make proper recommendations. Surely a decision from him would be more to be relished than for a stigma to gain float to the effect that a post office was abolished purely to get around the appointment of a Negro as postmaster. It is our understanding also that Joe Clarke is a Cuthbert, Georgia native who has made good in the postal service administration. Anyway, Congressman Diggs has not allowed the matter to go by as just so much thrift. Campanella Paralyzed A gloomy medical bulletin was recently issued concerning the condition of a star baseballer, Roy Campanella. It was something of a surprise, for the tone of earlier reports indicated that hopes were high that Campanella would recover from his paralysis and maybe even play baseball again. The latest report stated that no improvement in the muscle strength of the big Negro catcher had been noted and that the nervous sensation that had returned to the left side of the body, as far down as the knee, had now receded to the groin. In other words, progress toward recovery in this sphere had stopped and Campanella's condition had grown worse. Moreover, the longer there is no obvious improvement, the more serious the prospect for eventual recovery. Campanella is just one of thousands who are injured or killed in automobile accidents in this country each year. His case is tragic and highly publicized, because he is a sports star. He lies now, with chances apparently dwindling, with a broken neck and his future earning ability gravely impaired. The only consolation is that he is 37 years old and did not have many years left in the Major Leagues anyhow. Nevertheless, that is certainly a poor consolation. And Campanella's automobile accident should serve as a warning to all motorists. A broken neck, or a broken back, or death, is waiting for you around some curve—in the road ahead. You either see it in time, or think about it in time, or suffer the consequences. And even if you are not at fault, the dangers of the highway are ever present. Stay off them unless you have business that puts you there, and your chances of living to an old age, uninjured, will be enhanced. Nature And March March is an interesting month from Nature's standpoint. First, Nature brings us spring this year on the evening of March 20th, a little earlier than usual. Also can be observed at 3:50 in the morning of the 20th. After the cold weather we have been experiencing, the arrival of spring will be welcomed by many. However, the experts tell us that Spring will come late this year, in spite of the scheduled March 20th arrival. As for the planets in the solar system, several can be seen, clearly in March. Mercury will not be seen, since it is hidden beyond the sun. But Venus may be seen brightly in the morning skies, rising about three hours ahead of the sun. Mars will be visible to night owls, rising about 3:00 a.m. in the morning. Jupiter begins its retrograde motion and rises about eight o'clock in the evening, and is moving westward. Saturn can be seen rising about midnight. The major significance of March, however, is that the sun will start to shine over the northern hemisphere of 10:06 p. m. March 20th. This is the instant of the Vernal Equinox, and at this moment the sun will be over head in the Gulf of Tomini. There is also a meteor shower expected between March 10th and 12th, for those meteor showers will apparently come from near Arcturus, and the last quarter of the moon should not interfere with observance on a clear night. WISHING WELL Registered U. S. Patent Office. HERE is a pleasant little game that will give you a message every day. It is a numerical puzzle designed to spell out your fortune. Count the letters in your first name. If the number of letters is 6 or more, subtract 4. If the number is less than 6, add 3. The result is your key number. Start at the upper left-hand corner of the rectangle and check every one of your key numbers, left to right. Then read the message the letters under the checked figures give you. SEEING and SAYING BY WILLIAM A. FOWLKES Managing Editor Atlanta Daily World WHEN GEORGIA'S General Assembly started its recently ended run a record number of bills regarding segregation went into the hopper, being sponsored, of course, by the Griffin administration. At session's end, only one of these "smoke screen" bits of legislation had passed. It is now being questioned by a powerful group of voters as unnecessary and evil. A few days passed and there was a story that the State would drop its action to collect an alleged back tax assessment against the NAACP. Although, Capitol sources quickly denied they intended to drop the suit, informed sources believe otherwise since the weight of law and order is against the assessment and some officials "confess" it. They may not always speak loudly through the press and on the air, but they respect the democratic processes of our land. They know that in the long run, the best things in America are intended for all Americans. They know that hedging on the rights of a few will eventually result in the loss of rights for all. Democracy is a curious aggregation or privilege. You're Expected To Be A Man BY WILLIAM A. FOWLKES Managing Editor Atlanta Daily World WHEN GEORGIA'S General Assembly started its recently ended run a record number of bills regarding segregation went into the hopper, being sponsored, of course, by the Griffin administration. At session's end, only one of these "smoke screen" bits of legislation had passed. It is now being questioned by a powerful group of voters as unnecessary and evil. A few days passed and there was a story that the State would drop its action to collect an alleged back tax assessment against the NAACP. Although, Capitol sources quickly denied they intended to drop the suit, informed sources believe otherwise since the weight of law and order is against the assessment and some officials "confess" it. They may not always speak loudly through the press and on the air, but they respect the democratic processes of our land. They know that in the long run, the best things in America are intended for all Americans. They know that hedging on the rights of a few will eventually result in the loss of rights for all. Democracy is a curious aggregation or privilege. KNOW YOUR LIBRARY by MAUDDEAN THOMPSON SEWARD Human beings line in the realm of meanings. We do not experience perience circumstances in their perence crcumstances in their significance for men. "Wood" means "wood in its relation to mankind", and "Stone" means "stone as it can be a factor in human life." If a man should try to escape meanings and devote himself only to circumstances he would be very unfortunate. If we asked a man, "What is the meaning of life?", he would perhaps be unable to answer. People seem to ask such a question when they have suffered a defeat. There are as many meanings given to life as there are human beings. Every human being has three main ties: first, we are living on the crust of this poor planet, earth, and nowhere else. We must develop under the restrictions and with the possibilities which our place of habitation sets us. Second, we are not the only members of the human race. There are others around us, and we are living in association with them.; Third; Human beings are living in two sexes. The problem of love and marriage belongs to this third tie. No man or woman can escape giving an answer. Whatever a human being does when confronted by this problem, this is his answer. Individual psychology has found no problems in life which cannot be grouped under these three main problems – occupational, social and sexual. It is in his response to these three problems that every individual human being unfailingly reveal his own deep sense of the meaning of life. If teachers and parents and psychologists understand the mistakes that can be made in giving a meaning to life, and if they do not make the same mistakes themselves, we can be confident that children who have been lacking hi social interest will come to have a better feeling for their own capacities and for the opportunities of life. Pick up your copy of "WHAT LIFE SHOULD MEAN TO YOU" By Adler. "THE MEANING OF LIFE" by MAUDDEAN THOMPSON SEWARD Human beings line in the realm of meanings. We do not experience perience circumstances in their perence crcumstances in their significance for men. "Wood" means "wood in its relation to mankind", and "Stone" means "stone as it can be a factor in human life." If a man should try to escape meanings and devote himself only to circumstances he would be very unfortunate. If we asked a man, "What is the meaning of life?", he would perhaps be unable to answer. People seem to ask such a question when they have suffered a defeat. There are as many meanings given to life as there are human beings. Every human being has three main ties: first, we are living on the crust of this poor planet, earth, and nowhere else. We must develop under the restrictions and with the possibilities which our place of habitation sets us. Second, we are not the only members of the human race. There are others around us, and we are living in association with them.; Third; Human beings are living in two sexes. The problem of love and marriage belongs to this third tie. No man or woman can escape giving an answer. Whatever a human being does when confronted by this problem, this is his answer. Individual psychology has found no problems in life which cannot be grouped under these three main problems – occupational, social and sexual. It is in his response to these three problems that every individual human being unfailingly reveal his own deep sense of the meaning of life. If teachers and parents and psychologists understand the mistakes that can be made in giving a meaning to life, and if they do not make the same mistakes themselves, we can be confident that children who have been lacking hi social interest will come to have a better feeling for their own capacities and for the opportunities of life. Pick up your copy of "WHAT LIFE SHOULD MEAN TO YOU" By Adler. 5 Mobile Citizens Qualify For Executive Committee Race Five Negro citizens have qualified as candidates seeking election to the 84-member Mobile County Democratic Executive Committee, it was disclosed Monday by Chairman Charles M. Bancroft. The tartest to qualify was Calvin E. Powell, retired school principal, who entered live committee race Wednesday. Prof. Powell, militant NAACP worker before the organization was put under an injunction forbidding its operation in Alabama, in his initial bid far public office hopes to be elected to one of the three posts in the predominatly-Negro 10th ward. Other Negroes who qualified as entrants for the Democratic. Committee election are Jesse Thomas, labor reader, 20th ward; Conrad Deane, also a labor leader, Ward 22; and Alex L. Herman and Clarence H. Montgomery, local businessman, Ward 10. Herman and Montgomery were elected as committeemen in the old 7th ward, now the 10th, four years ago. They were the first two Negroes to win public office in Alabama by the ballot box since the Reconstruction period, and are now seeking reelection. The 10th ward, with more than 2100 voters, is entitled to three members on the County Democratic Executive Committee. Rules set by the committee allow a ward one committeeman for every 700 voters. A statewide Democratic primary election will be held May 6. Crime Does Not Pay Bills Crime does not pay —- not even when one robs to pay legitimate bills. This 37-year-old Nathaniel Ford of 206 Farrview can attest to. Ford reportedly told police that his pressing bills drove him to crime. He allegedly walked into the Sciara Supermarket at 1397 S. Bellevue stuck a 38 caliber pistol in a clerk's face. Miss Sarah Sciara, and walked off with an estimated $300 about 1:30 p. m. Miss Sciara reported the robbery to police and within 35 minutes police nabbed Ford as he was leaving the Memphis Light, Gas and Water Division where he paid an $18 bill. He said he was on his way to pay a delinquent bill on his 1954 Chevrolet. Ford had been sentenced to 10 years for armed robbery in 1940. He said that the mounting bills forced him into the robbery. He was arrested by L. K. Lawhorn and E. K. Lane, traffic tickets officers. Ford paid one legitimate bill but now he owes a bigger one. Seek To Hire 200 the union. Qualifications include: American citizenship, between 21-31 years of age; not less than five feet, eight inches The starting salary was-listed at $4,193. Uniforms and equipment would be furnished by the department, plus $5,000 of Government Life Insurance, as well as sick and annual leave and medical and urgical care. Other added attractions included retirement plan, family protection advancement and eight holidays a year. For further information, contact Police Headquarters, 300 Indiana Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C. The United States Civil Service Commission. Application forms can be obtained at any U. S. Post Office. Any citizen in the U. S. may apply regardless of present resident. Congressman Dawson Welfare to work out plans for desegregation of public schools in cooperation with the affected communities. The bill also would authorize the Attorney General to seek aid of the courts to achieve elimination of segregation and t protect the constitutional right to equal protection of the laws of persons who, because of proverty of community hostility, are unable to bring suits It also would empower the Attorney General to bring suits for injunctions against any person preventing, hindering or threatening to prevent or hinder, or conspiring to prevent or hinder any Federal, state or local officer from according to any person the right to the equal protection of the laws without racial or religious distinction. Poverty Is Big the cause of the present enmity between Arabians and Jews. Ho added that the expulsion of the Arabs from Palestine without any compensation has created a good deal of resentment of the new state of Israel. Prof. Selim explained the present Arab policy as one of neutrality; Arabs intend to "put their own house in order," to be "friends of all and enemies of none." He said that the Baghdad Part of 1955 and the vested interest of foreign countries in the Middle East have brought the Cold War into the Arab World and have delayed the union of Arab states. MEMPHIS WORLD BYRD TRANSFER COMPANY — FEMALE HELP WANTED OFFICE SPACE FOR RENT FURNISHED ROOMS SCHOOLS 5 NEGRO WOMEN Man Tentatively Andrews disappeared mysteriously the next day (Feb. 10) with all-her possessions. Chicago police, theorizing, said that Jenkins was slain in the apartment. Whitfied revealed that Miss Andrews called him by telephone several days later and said she knew nothing about Jenkins' disappearance. However, she refused to reveal her whereabouts, Whitfied said. The Chicago police also revealed that Jenkins had been in an auto crash on Feb. 7 and the auto he was driving bore Georgia license and it was registered in the name of Marjorie Sailor, whom they believe to be Miss Andrews. The trunk arrived at Central Station in Memphis Feb. 12, said a baggage room employee. It had been there about 16 days when a baggage handlers started to complain about a foul odor and it was noticed that there was something seeping from it. The trunk was forced open. It contained the body believed to be that of young Jenkins, which was fully clothed with a dark suit, bright red shirt, overcoat, hat shoes and gloves. An autopsy disclosed that a bullet hole was in his chest. Police said the body was difficult to identify positively because of its condition. The head was nearly twice the normal size. The young Jenkins had one eye. He lost it when about 12 years of age. He was described as being about five feet, nine inches tall, weighing about 170, keen features and dark brown complexion. His father said when Jenkins went to Chicago sometime between 1951-52, he escaped from the workhouse where he had been sent in connection with some missing paint at the Best Lumber Company where he was employed at the time." He said he had not heard from him directly since, only by way of his sister, Mrs. Whitified, who would always mention him in letters or telephone calls. Before leaving Memphis he lived on Florida St., near Trigg. The father said Jenkins first came to Memphis from his native home in Hernando, Miss., in 1945. The parents of Jenkins are so convinced that the unidentified body is that of their son until funeral services were being arranged by the R. S. Lewis and Sons funeral home. Services were tentatively set for Pleasant Graove Bap tist church in Hernando, Miss. Aside from his father and sister, the younger Jenkins has a stepmother, Mrs. Beanonia Jenkins, two brothers, Bennie Lee Jenkins of 1388 Gleason St., and Harvey Jenkins, Jr., of Detroit, and an uncle, Lindsey Jenkins of 688 Vance Ave. BULLETIN IN CHEST Andrews disappeared mysteriously the next day (Feb. 10) with all-her possessions. Chicago police, theorizing, said that Jenkins was slain in the apartment. Whitfied revealed that Miss Andrews called him by telephone several days later and said she knew nothing about Jenkins' disappearance. However, she refused to reveal her whereabouts, Whitfied said. The Chicago police also revealed that Jenkins had been in an auto crash on Feb. 7 and the auto he was driving bore Georgia license and it was registered in the name of Marjorie Sailor, whom they believe to be Miss Andrews. The trunk arrived at Central Station in Memphis Feb. 12, said a baggage room employee. It had been there about 16 days when a baggage handlers started to complain about a foul odor and it was noticed that there was something seeping from it. The trunk was forced open. It contained the body believed to be that of young Jenkins, which was fully clothed with a dark suit, bright red shirt, overcoat, hat shoes and gloves. An autopsy disclosed that a bullet hole was in his chest. Police said the body was difficult to identify positively because of its condition. The head was nearly twice the normal size. The young Jenkins had one eye. He lost it when about 12 years of age. He was described as being about five feet, nine inches tall, weighing about 170, keen features and dark brown complexion. His father said when Jenkins went to Chicago sometime between 1951-52, he escaped from the workhouse where he had been sent in connection with some missing paint at the Best Lumber Company where he was employed at the time." He said he had not heard from him directly since, only by way of his sister, Mrs. Whitified, who would always mention him in letters or telephone calls. Before leaving Memphis he lived on Florida St., near Trigg. The father said Jenkins first came to Memphis from his native home in Hernando, Miss., in 1945. The parents of Jenkins are so convinced that the unidentified body is that of their son until funeral services were being arranged by the R. S. Lewis and Sons funeral home. Services were tentatively set for Pleasant Graove Bap tist church in Hernando, Miss. Aside from his father and sister, the younger Jenkins has a stepmother, Mrs. Beanonia Jenkins, two brothers, Bennie Lee Jenkins of 1388 Gleason St., and Harvey Jenkins, Jr., of Detroit, and an uncle, Lindsey Jenkins of 688 Vance Ave. NATIVE MISSISSIPPIAN Andrews disappeared mysteriously the next day (Feb. 10) with all-her possessions. Chicago police, theorizing, said that Jenkins was slain in the apartment. Whitfied revealed that Miss Andrews called him by telephone several days later and said she knew nothing about Jenkins' disappearance. However, she refused to reveal her whereabouts, Whitfied said. The Chicago police also revealed that Jenkins had been in an auto crash on Feb. 7 and the auto he was driving bore Georgia license and it was registered in the name of Marjorie Sailor, whom they believe to be Miss Andrews. The trunk arrived at Central Station in Memphis Feb. 12, said a baggage room employee. It had been there about 16 days when a baggage handlers started to complain about a foul odor and it was noticed that there was something seeping from it. The trunk was forced open. It contained the body believed to be that of young Jenkins, which was fully clothed with a dark suit, bright red shirt, overcoat, hat shoes and gloves. An autopsy disclosed that a bullet hole was in his chest. Police said the body was difficult to identify positively because of its condition. The head was nearly twice the normal size. The young Jenkins had one eye. He lost it when about 12 years of age. He was described as being about five feet, nine inches tall, weighing about 170, keen features and dark brown complexion. His father said when Jenkins went to Chicago sometime between 1951-52, he escaped from the workhouse where he had been sent in connection with some missing paint at the Best Lumber Company where he was employed at the time." He said he had not heard from him directly since, only by way of his sister, Mrs. Whitified, who would always mention him in letters or telephone calls. Before leaving Memphis he lived on Florida St., near Trigg. The father said Jenkins first came to Memphis from his native home in Hernando, Miss., in 1945. The parents of Jenkins are so convinced that the unidentified body is that of their son until funeral services were being arranged by the R. S. Lewis and Sons funeral home. Services were tentatively set for Pleasant Graove Bap tist church in Hernando, Miss. Aside from his father and sister, the younger Jenkins has a stepmother, Mrs. Beanonia Jenkins, two brothers, Bennie Lee Jenkins of 1388 Gleason St., and Harvey Jenkins, Jr., of Detroit, and an uncle, Lindsey Jenkins of 688 Vance Ave. DESPERATE MAN WAYNE D. OVERHOLSER'S new Western thriller © 1957, Wayne D. Overholser, From the novel published by the Macmillan Co. Distributed by King Features Syndicate. DECEMBER was a cold month with an occasional light fall of snow. My father and I worked hard at the wood job, finishing a few days before Christmas. The cattle had been grazing on the lower slopes of Campbell Mountain, but now they began drifting toward the river, and Pa gave Gil the job of looking after them. Gil had changed. I wasn't sure why. Maybe he knew about Bess and Toll. Maybe she'd talked turkey to him. In any case, he spent far less time with her, and he worked at the job my father had given him, probably because he preferred riding to pulling a crosscut saw through a pine log. And he had quit calling me "kid." My father changed, too, an insidious thing that I was slow to notice. Finally I realized he was afraid. He never talked about it. He didn't show it by being nervous or jumpy. But he took to wearing his gun when he worked, something he had never done. He didn't step out on the front porch at night, as had been his habit. We didn't talk much while we worked, but several nights, after supper, he seemed compelled to talk. My father was always figuring, usually at the other end of the table from Gil. Several times held say, "I'm going into Buhl right after the first of the year and see how much money I can borrow. We've got to get these scrubs off our range." A couple of nights before the Christmas program in the schoolhouse he got down to brass tacks. This time he talked directly to me. "We've got limited range," my father said, "as long as the Rafter 3 holds the present line, and it's a cinch they won't give up any of their grass; that means all of us in the park will be held to the size herds we've got now, so good bulls is our only way of expanding. We'll get more weight on each steer." He figured some more, frowned, and chewed on the end of his pencil. He leaned back and looked at me. "But gosh darn it, how can you talk sense to a hard head like Matt Colohan? No use any of us putting good bulls on the range if all of us don't Maybe I can borrow enough to loan Matt—" "There you go, Joe," my mother cut in. 'T was just waiting to hear that. Borrowing money to loan it to a whiskey making old soak like Matt Colohan is the stupidest thing I ever heard you say." She looked at him as if daring him to argue with her, but he didn't. He got up and grinned at me as if to say he knew I understood, then he went to bed. A moment later I did, too, but I lay awake a long time, stirred up inside in a way I hadn't been since I'd talked to Elder Smith. My father had realized his big dream to own a ranch, but he was not a man who would ever quit dreaming. Now I had a queer feeling he was afraid something was going to happen to him and he wanted to pass his dream on to me. The day before Christmas a saddle tramp drifted in. A little, middle-aged man with a wistful smile and a droopy mustache, he was pretty typical. Failure was written all over him. At this time of year he should have been five hundred miles south of here. My father didn't like to put strangers up, but he couldn't very well say No. Anyhow, this was Christmas. The fellow said his name was Jones, he'd been working in Montana and he was trying to get to Arizona where he had a job waiting for him on a ranch just out of Tucson. It was an old yarn that none of us believed, but Pa told him to put his horse in the corral and come in for supper. He did, and the amount of food he put down was unbelievable. After supper we started getting ready to go to the program at the schoolhouse and Pa decided Jones had to go with us. Jones didn't want to go. "Let him stay "here," I said. "He's right. He won't enjoy the program." My father's face tightened. For a minute I thought he was going to blow up. Then he said in a low tone, a tone nobody but Ma ever argued with, "By heck, Jones, you're going or you're dragging out of here." I was a little irritated with my father. But there wasn't anything I could do, with Pa's mind made up, so Jones went with us. We never had enough seats in the schoolhouse on Christmas Eve. Ma got one, but the rest of us stood up with the other men along the sides and rear of the room. I always got a tingle out of Christmas. Maybe it was the age-old Christmas carols that did something to me. But this year I couldn't get into the spirit. I thought about this fellow Jones. The more I thought, the less I liked it. His story was purely phony. A saddle bum headed for Tucson would never wander into Dillon's Park. By the time the program was over and we got home, I was in a dither, but I didn't want my father to know. I put the team away, and when I got in the house, my mother tasked where the guinea hen was she'd told me to catch earlier in the day. I'd forgotten all about it. She was put out at me and said I'd better go get the hen now. "I don't know where they're roosting," I said. "I'll get her in the morning if I have to shoot her. Or get Gil to." "One of you boys had better, or we won't have a Christmas dinner," she grumbled. "Ma, make Jones a bed here on the couch," I said. 'It's cold in the haymow and this is Christmas." Jones didn't seem as appreciative as he should have been, but he "didn't object very strenously, so my mother got some quilts out of her bedroom and made his bed. Gil had stayed at the schoolhouse to ride home with Bess, so he didn't come in for another hour or so. I was asleep, but I stirred enough to hear him shut the back door. Later, with the night still pitch-black, I heard the guinea hens. The next thing I knew someone fired a gun in front of the house. It was still dark, so I didn't have any idea what time it was. I pulled on my boots, not even putting on my socks, and ran through the house in my underclothes. Ma stood in the bedroom doorway, a lighted lamp in her hand. "Pa just went out to milk—" I didn't wait to hear what she had to say. I yanked the door open and ran out into the bitter cold. Pa was flat on his belly. From the grotesque way he lay there, I didn't have to turn him over to know he was dead. I heard Ma scream. I plunged back into the house and whirled to look at the couch. Jones was gone. CHAPTER 13 WAYNE D. OVERHOLSER'S new Western thriller © 1957, Wayne D. Overholser, From the novel published by the Macmillan Co. Distributed by King Features Syndicate. DECEMBER was a cold month with an occasional light fall of snow. My father and I worked hard at the wood job, finishing a few days before Christmas. The cattle had been grazing on the lower slopes of Campbell Mountain, but now they began drifting toward the river, and Pa gave Gil the job of looking after them. Gil had changed. I wasn't sure why. Maybe he knew about Bess and Toll. Maybe she'd talked turkey to him. In any case, he spent far less time with her, and he worked at the job my father had given him, probably because he preferred riding to pulling a crosscut saw through a pine log. And he had quit calling me "kid." My father changed, too, an insidious thing that I was slow to notice. Finally I realized he was afraid. He never talked about it. He didn't show it by being nervous or jumpy. But he took to wearing his gun when he worked, something he had never done. He didn't step out on the front porch at night, as had been his habit. We didn't talk much while we worked, but several nights, after supper, he seemed compelled to talk. My father was always figuring, usually at the other end of the table from Gil. Several times held say, "I'm going into Buhl right after the first of the year and see how much money I can borrow. We've got to get these scrubs off our range." A couple of nights before the Christmas program in the schoolhouse he got down to brass tacks. This time he talked directly to me. "We've got limited range," my father said, "as long as the Rafter 3 holds the present line, and it's a cinch they won't give up any of their grass; that means all of us in the park will be held to the size herds we've got now, so good bulls is our only way of expanding. We'll get more weight on each steer." He figured some more, frowned, and chewed on the end of his pencil. He leaned back and looked at me. "But gosh darn it, how can you talk sense to a hard head like Matt Colohan? No use any of us putting good bulls on the range if all of us don't Maybe I can borrow enough to loan Matt—" "There you go, Joe," my mother cut in. 'T was just waiting to hear that. Borrowing money to loan it to a whiskey making old soak like Matt Colohan is the stupidest thing I ever heard you say." She looked at him as if daring him to argue with her, but he didn't. He got up and grinned at me as if to say he knew I understood, then he went to bed. A moment later I did, too, but I lay awake a long time, stirred up inside in a way I hadn't been since I'd talked to Elder Smith. My father had realized his big dream to own a ranch, but he was not a man who would ever quit dreaming. Now I had a queer feeling he was afraid something was going to happen to him and he wanted to pass his dream on to me. The day before Christmas a saddle tramp drifted in. A little, middle-aged man with a wistful smile and a droopy mustache, he was pretty typical. Failure was written all over him. At this time of year he should have been five hundred miles south of here. My father didn't like to put strangers up, but he couldn't very well say No. Anyhow, this was Christmas. The fellow said his name was Jones, he'd been working in Montana and he was trying to get to Arizona where he had a job waiting for him on a ranch just out of Tucson. It was an old yarn that none of us believed, but Pa told him to put his horse in the corral and come in for supper. He did, and the amount of food he put down was unbelievable. After supper we started getting ready to go to the program at the schoolhouse and Pa decided Jones had to go with us. Jones didn't want to go. "Let him stay "here," I said. "He's right. He won't enjoy the program." My father's face tightened. For a minute I thought he was going to blow up. Then he said in a low tone, a tone nobody but Ma ever argued with, "By heck, Jones, you're going or you're dragging out of here." I was a little irritated with my father. But there wasn't anything I could do, with Pa's mind made up, so Jones went with us. We never had enough seats in the schoolhouse on Christmas Eve. Ma got one, but the rest of us stood up with the other men along the sides and rear of the room. I always got a tingle out of Christmas. Maybe it was the age-old Christmas carols that did something to me. But this year I couldn't get into the spirit. I thought about this fellow Jones. The more I thought, the less I liked it. His story was purely phony. A saddle bum headed for Tucson would never wander into Dillon's Park. By the time the program was over and we got home, I was in a dither, but I didn't want my father to know. I put the team away, and when I got in the house, my mother tasked where the guinea hen was she'd told me to catch earlier in the day. I'd forgotten all about it. She was put out at me and said I'd better go get the hen now. "I don't know where they're roosting," I said. "I'll get her in the morning if I have to shoot her. Or get Gil to." "One of you boys had better, or we won't have a Christmas dinner," she grumbled. "Ma, make Jones a bed here on the couch," I said. 'It's cold in the haymow and this is Christmas." Jones didn't seem as appreciative as he should have been, but he "didn't object very strenously, so my mother got some quilts out of her bedroom and made his bed. Gil had stayed at the schoolhouse to ride home with Bess, so he didn't come in for another hour or so. I was asleep, but I stirred enough to hear him shut the back door. Later, with the night still pitch-black, I heard the guinea hens. The next thing I knew someone fired a gun in front of the house. It was still dark, so I didn't have any idea what time it was. I pulled on my boots, not even putting on my socks, and ran through the house in my underclothes. Ma stood in the bedroom doorway, a lighted lamp in her hand. "Pa just went out to milk—" I didn't wait to hear what she had to say. I yanked the door open and ran out into the bitter cold. Pa was flat on his belly. From the grotesque way he lay there, I didn't have to turn him over to know he was dead. I heard Ma scream. I plunged back into the house and whirled to look at the couch. Jones was gone. Use It Or Lose It BY LOUISE LYNOM Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? (Psalm 139:7). One day someone said to a minister: "You talk about Jesus as if He were in the room with you." The minister replied, "He is nearer than that." Christ dwells in our very hearts, if we make room for Him by denying the claims of self and the world. Our loving heavenly Father never intended to be near us only when we seek. Him out of the anguish of troubled spirits. He always sought constant companionship wth His children that He may share all our experiences of life, whether of sorrow or of joy, of sickness or of health, of adversity or prosperity. Our Father is interested in all our affairs, whether small or large. When we learn to include God in every area of our lives. He is more than just near us; He is within. How wonderful that we can draw near to the Eternal in absolute trust! We can fall asleep leaving all to His unsleeping care, and then awaken to discover that our thoughts are still with Him! Loving Fattier, in simply, humble trust we thank Thee for the blessing of Thy indwelling Spirit through all the experiences of life. Dwell evermore in our hearts, and lead us in the way everlasting. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. IN THE ROOM BY LOUISE LYNOM Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? (Psalm 139:7). One day someone said to a minister: "You talk about Jesus as if He were in the room with you." The minister replied, "He is nearer than that." Christ dwells in our very hearts, if we make room for Him by denying the claims of self and the world. Our loving heavenly Father never intended to be near us only when we seek. Him out of the anguish of troubled spirits. He always sought constant companionship wth His children that He may share all our experiences of life, whether of sorrow or of joy, of sickness or of health, of adversity or prosperity. Our Father is interested in all our affairs, whether small or large. When we learn to include God in every area of our lives. He is more than just near us; He is within. How wonderful that we can draw near to the Eternal in absolute trust! We can fall asleep leaving all to His unsleeping care, and then awaken to discover that our thoughts are still with Him! Loving Fattier, in simply, humble trust we thank Thee for the blessing of Thy indwelling Spirit through all the experiences of life. Dwell evermore in our hearts, and lead us in the way everlasting. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. PRAYER BY LOUISE LYNOM Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? (Psalm 139:7). One day someone said to a minister: "You talk about Jesus as if He were in the room with you." The minister replied, "He is nearer than that." Christ dwells in our very hearts, if we make room for Him by denying the claims of self and the world. Our loving heavenly Father never intended to be near us only when we seek. Him out of the anguish of troubled spirits. He always sought constant companionship wth His children that He may share all our experiences of life, whether of sorrow or of joy, of sickness or of health, of adversity or prosperity. Our Father is interested in all our affairs, whether small or large. When we learn to include God in every area of our lives. He is more than just near us; He is within. How wonderful that we can draw near to the Eternal in absolute trust! We can fall asleep leaving all to His unsleeping care, and then awaken to discover that our thoughts are still with Him! Loving Fattier, in simply, humble trust we thank Thee for the blessing of Thy indwelling Spirit through all the experiences of life. Dwell evermore in our hearts, and lead us in the way everlasting. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Campy Vows He'll Make A Liar Out Of Doctors Mrs. Ruth Campanella last week quoted her paralyzed husband as saying. "Ill make a liar out of them does yet!" while scuffing a report that he may mover walk again. Mrs. Campanella said she and Roy are extremely hopeful that the great catcher will recover from the tragedy which occured when a car he was driving overturned on Jan. 28, resulting in a broken neck and paralysis from the shoulders down. BODY RECOVERED Harbor Police Wednesday recovered the body of Thomas Butler, 36, from Kingman' Lake in the Anacostia River. Mr. Butler was reported missing an January 15 by his mother, Mrs. Marian Butler. Death apparently was by drowning. Mrs. Mary J. Reynolds, 1525 Beech Street, was making her rounds of offices on the fourth floor of the building when she happened to glance out of the window and noticed a red glow through the windows of another wing of the building. She immediately notified the elevator operator who in turn, called the fire department. After their arrival, firemen had to battle the blaze for two hours before bringing it under control. Mrs. Reynolds, a native Louisvillian, who has worked at the post office for the last four years; admitted that she did get a little excited. This excitement manifested itself in the fact that she bypassed a fire alarm to get to the elevator operator. The fire broke out about 6:30 Friday afternoon and raced from the seventh street side of the block-long building to the sixth street side. This Is The Man To See For Quick Cash A. T. "ZANNIE" JONES (GENERAL MANAGER) $50.00 TO $500.00 Quickly — Conveniently — Confidentially on Signature — Furniture — Automobile COME IN OR CALL Harlem Finance Co. JA. 6-5088 317 Beale St. Florida Tops Texas Southern 94-91 In Play-Off Series A field goal and charity toss by all-conference guard Jimmy Forchion with less than 10 seconds remaining gave Florida A and M University a hairline 94-91 decision in the first game of playoff series with Texas Southern University. Texas Southern and Florida are engaged in a two out of there game series to decide which team will go to the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics tournament to be played later in March at Kansas City, Missouri. Until Forchion broke the game in the final seconds, the Rattlers and Tigers from Houston Texas had waged a see-saw struggle that had the lead exchanged several times. The third quarter began with TSU holding a 51-41 advantage but Florida caught fire, and knotted the score at 60 all at the beginning of the fourth. Robert Bodditt of Texas Southern poured to 29 points for highest honors, and was closely followed by Leo Morgan of Florida with 27. The second game of this series will be played March 1, and the third, if necessary, on March 3. Michigan Girl Wins Miss Judith Mansfield, a student at University High school, was one of seven high school girls from this area to receive "Good Citizen" awards from the Sarah Caswell Angell chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution, here last week.