Memphis World Memphis World Publishing Co. 1959-07-01 Thaddeus T. Stokes MEMPHIS WORLD 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 of its readers and opposing those things against the interest of its readers. Baptist Congress Scores Memphis was made better last week by the National Sunday School and Baptist Training Union Congress held at Ellis Auditorium and attended by more than 10,000 delegates from 46 states. For one thing it easily dispelled the myth of critics here who have said that only a few Negroes are interested in achieving full constitutional rights and that the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, at the forefront of the civil rights battle, has little connection with the Negro people of this country. NAACP Executive Secretory Roy Wilkins, who addressed the delegates representing more than four million Baptists from all over the country, was cheered loudly, and Negro Baptist leaders let it be known that they agree with him that there can be no lag in the struggle for equal opportunities and rights for all citizens. The town was filled with outstanding civil rights leaders from all over the country, and one of them besides Wilkins was Dr. O. Clay Maxwell of New York City, a former Memphian who was re-elected president of the huge organization. Dr. Maxwell said rightly: "Evangelism of the Christian Church has a two-fold purpose — to win men and women one by one to a vital relationship with God and to fashion a world fit for all the children of God to live in." This statement seems to reflect the feeling of the great majority of Baptist leaders and delegates who gathered here. Other national civil rights leaders whose presence added color to the occasion included Dr. Martin Luther King and Rev. Ralph Abernathy of Montgomery, Ala., bus boycott fame; Rev. Fred L. Shuttlesworth of Birmingham, Ala., who has courageously led the fight for desegregation there; Dr. J. H. Jackson of Chicago, Ill., president of the National Baptist Convention; Dr. James B. Cayce of Pittsburgh, Pa., director-general of the Congress; Dr. A. Franklin Fisher, Dean of the Congress from Atlanta, Ga., and many others. Memphians can be proud, too, if its citizens who helped to make the Congress a success. Among these Memphians would be Dr. Roy Love, pastor of Mt. Nebo Baptist Church, headquarters for the big confab, who was general chairman of the event; Rev. A. McEwen Williams, pastor of St. John Baptist Church; Rev. H. Clark Nabrit, pastor of First Baptist Lauderdale, and Dr. S. A. Owen, pastor of Metropolitan Baptist Church, whose combined efforts helped get the Congress to meet here in Memphis. And a special note of praise, should go to Miss Lucie E. Campbell, our nationally famous sacred songwriter who has long been director of Congress music and whose efforts last September were a great help in getting the big Baptist event here this year. Baptists and religious-minded people everywhere should be proud of the dignified way in which the NSS and BTU Congress was conducted here last week. The organization has more than earned its welcome in this city. Nixon And Rockefeller Vice President Richard Nixon and Nelson Rockefeller will probably meet, head-on, for the first time in New Hampshire next Spring. There, as in past presidential election years, the early New Hampshire primary attracts nationwide attention. The primary in New Hampshire is scheduled next May, about ten months hence, and it is reported that Senator Styles Bridges, a leader among Senate Republicans, has agreed to head a Nixon slate of delegates. This puts Nelson Rockefeller, and his supporters, on the spot. It will be important for Governor Rockefeller to make a strong impression at the beginning, since he is generally rated second to Nixon in delegate strength and in party popularity at this time. Therefore, it is vital for Governor Rockefeller to show up well in his primary battle with the Vice President in New Hampshire. For this reason, one can expect much attention to be focused on New Hampshire in the next ten months, and especially in the last month before the New Hampshire primary. It will be interesting to see whether the Vice President or the New York Governor comes out first in the New Hampshire contest. This might well be a key to the outcome of the battle for the Republican nomination. 'STATES ARE PEOPLE' Governor Leroy Collins of the state of Florida, in vetoing a bill passed by the legislature in its recent session, calling for the state to appropriate $500,000, contingent upon four other states setting aside a like fund, to join in a "systematic distribution of the real facts about the South," not only rendered a worthwhile service, but might have either invented or revised the use of a very touching phrase—"states are people." Yes, states are people; people make their own reputations, their commercial credit rating and their relative standing in their community civic and church activities. So do the states in a national compact. When any individual, concern or business desires some sort of reference in any particular field, the "real facts" desired are not what that particular individual sets up himself in all cases. When references are desired of an individual or a people, investigators and credit concerns have their own standards and systems whereby they get "the real facts" for their purposes. One's standing in a community, or on the plane of credit rating is not suddenly gained by huge advertising sums set aside for newspaper publicity, speech makihg and general propaganda for the establishment of "real facts" about that particular invidual. This must be indeed a strange complex in which sensible and trained persons will contrive in their own minds that, while the very motive suggests that a reputation is in such jeopardy as to call on the neighbors to help keep up enough noise to make the public forget an unpleasant and unsavory past. Yes, Governor Collins authored a parable; if he is guilty of coining this phrase, in time it will inure to his credit, possibly surpassing many of his state papers he might feel disposed to preserve. States are people and individuals choose to live in them, rear their families and establish their industries in line with their reputations, just as one chooses to live, board with or select as a mate throughout life from among those pleasing associates. Many politicians who shape state policy and generate state atmosphere assuredly have not happened upon the realization—"states are people"—and they have reputations. Let all good citizens try to give their states a good reputation. NOT BY GUNS ALONE By E.M. Barker 1958, E. M. Barker; published by arrangement with P Raynold's & Son; distributed by King Features Syndicate "Upon her arrival in New Mexico to stay at the ranch of her grandmother, Rachel Kilgore, whom she has never seen before. Martha Kilgore finds herself in the midst of a feud. For when dumped into a crek by her balky horse, she was rescued by Slade Considine and taen to the ranch of Slade's uncle Nick Considine, to get dry and warm. Hearing her name was sufficient to cause Nick to order her off land and tell his nephew to stay away from all the Kilgores or be diswned Nick Considine and Rachel Kilgore have been bitter enemies for forty years. ll the ranchers in the Chupaderos ve had a common problem thurst upon them. The Government has established a new Forest Service and is taking steps to impose regulations on the use of range that the ranchers considered theirs by right of possession. Rachel Kilgore's answer was a greeting of the ranchers at Wynn Thomason's place to discuss ways and means of blocking the Forest Service's measures. Slade chosen to lead the fight to keep the Forest Rangers at a distance shocked them with his reason for refusing. He has been sworn in as the local Forest Ranger. Nick Considine is as angered by this news as the other ranchers and approved when Wynn Thomason offered to lead the resistance to the Rangers. Slade's only ally is Frenchy Quebedeaux, a sheep raiser despised by the cattlemen. Frenchy has offered Slade living quarters at his house. FRENCHY QUEBEDEAUX'S cabin was not fine, but it was comfortable and attractive. It was built of logs with a peaked root s the mountain Mexicans build, then plastered inside and out with mud. Frenchy opened the door, struck a match and went in first. Slade Considine waited in the doorway while the big Frenchman lighted a lamp. Then he looked around in surprise and approval. Frenchy stirred up a fire in the stove, poured water in the teakettle and set it on. He turned then, rubbing his hands in delight at the approval on the cowboy's face. "You like, hey?" he asked. "It's mighty nice, Frenchy. Nobody could ask for better." "I make heem all myself—the house, the chairs, the fireplace, the table, evertheeng but the stove." "It's mighty nice, Frenchy," Slade said again, and went over and sat down in one of the chairs. Slade was feeling a little sorry for himself. Three days ago he had been at the top of the heap, a top-notch cowhand, his uncle's foreman, destined some day to be the owner of the 143. And now here he was, an outcast among his own kind, a boarder in a sheep camp. He knew he shouldn't mind it — Frenchy's cabin was clean and comfortable —but he did. He minded knowing that to the cattlemen he was tarred with the sheepman's brush. A foolish idea maybe, but one that was deeply ingrained. He found himself almost wishing he could live the past three days over again. He still had a deep conviction that Uncle Sam was right in establishing the Forest Service to look out for his public lands, and somebody had to make these folks in the Chupa deros see it that way too. But if he had it to do over again maybe he would just forget what he thought was right and run with the crowd. It was pleasant to be liked and respected. Frenchy was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "You don't like living with a sheepman—no?" Blade flushed and was suddenly ashamed of his thoughts. Frenchy deserved a better return for his hospitality than this. "I was feeling a little sorry for myself," he admitted honestly. "Sorry that I quarrelled with Uncle Nick. But mostly I was just thinking about what a big job I've got to do—and wondering whether I can do it or not." "You can do," Frenchy said with quiet confidence. "Once Sam peecked the right man. I make some coffee. Sometheeng hot make you feel better." Maybe the coffee helped some —but mostly it was Slade's innate good common sense that pulled him out of the doldrums. And he made a private vow to himself that he wasn't going to let himself get to wallowing in self pity again. Frenchy sensed the difference in him. Usually gruff and taciturn to the point of actually seeming unfriendly, now he appeared childishly pleased at the idea of having a guest. He was not the kind of a man who would ever talk much, but there was a change in his attitude, a tentative, almost wistful groping for friendship that surprised and touched Slade Considine. It made him forget for a solid hour one important reason he had had in accepting the sheepman's offer of lodging. It was at bedtime that something happened that jolted the cowboy into an awareness of how little anybody knew about Frenchy Quebedeaux. He was sitting on the edge of a bunk, taking off his boots. He jerked his head toward a door in the long back wall of the room. A door that somehow seemed newer than the rest of the woodwork. "You got another room back there, Frenchy?" The big Frenchman looked at him and it seemed to Slade that there was a funny, half guilty, half sorrowful look on his dark face. "You don' go in there," he said quietly. "Anytheeng else on thees place she ees yours, but don' go in there." Slade let a boot fall with a thump. "I thought maybe that's where Bacho slept," he said casually. Frenchy shook his head. "Mos' time—when hee's working hard— Bacho hee's too dirty for the house. He sleeps in the barns weeth hees sheeps. When he cleans up I let heem come in. But you hear what I say about those door?" "I heard—yes," Slade said as he rolled back in his bunk. But as Frenchy blew out the light he reflected that hearing didn't necessarily bind him to a promise to need. Even so it was three days before he had a chance to find out that the door was locked. Of course he didn't have any keys with him, but it looked like an ordinary house door-lock that probably a skeleton key would open. He strolled around behind the house that morning and saw that a smaller room had recently been built on behind the original cabin. It was a fair-sized room, probably about fifteen by fifteen, and there were low, wide windows on each side, with green window shades pulled down to the sill. Frenchy came round the corner of the house and caught him eying the room. The big Frenchman didn't say anything but his face hardened, and there was an expression in his eyes that said very plainly, "Try it and see what it gets you!" Slade's ears burned a little as he walked away. He didn't like snooping, but thoughts of the mysterious room had him bothered. It wasn't just plain curiosity. The three cattle outfits in the Chupaderos had been losing a sizable proportion of their calf crop for two years now, and as Forest Ranger it was part of his job to put a stop to it, whether they wanted his help or not. When Slade rode in to get the mail a couple of days later, he also stopped by the little hardware store and bought a skeleton key. Bacho came in for supper that night. Shaven, scrubbed and dressed in clean levis, he seemed like any other sensible, quietspoken English gentleman. Bacho liked to talk, and when he was sober he talked well. Interrupting one of Bacho's stories, Slade suddenly raised his head and listened. "Don't I hear your dog barking, Bacho?" he asked. "Do you suppose something could be bothering the sheep?" With a sigh the little herder got to his feet and reached for his coat. "Probably one of Mrs. Kilgore's bulls," he said in exasperation. "One big black has a regular feud on with Shep. There is salt in the corral and there isn't a fence in the country that will stop him. Perhaps I'd better go see about it." As he opened the door the barking took on a desperate, frantic tone, and then there was a crashing sound as if the bull had busted through the corral fence. Frenchy got up. "I go too," he said grimly, and reached for a gun from the rack on the wall. Slade's nerves tensed. This was the chance for which he had been waiting. WHAT HAS HAPPENED By E.M. Barker 1958, E. M. Barker; published by arrangement with P Raynold's & Son; distributed by King Features Syndicate "Upon her arrival in New Mexico to stay at the ranch of her grandmother, Rachel Kilgore, whom she has never seen before. Martha Kilgore finds herself in the midst of a feud. For when dumped into a crek by her balky horse, she was rescued by Slade Considine and taen to the ranch of Slade's uncle Nick Considine, to get dry and warm. Hearing her name was sufficient to cause Nick to order her off land and tell his nephew to stay away from all the Kilgores or be diswned Nick Considine and Rachel Kilgore have been bitter enemies for forty years. ll the ranchers in the Chupaderos ve had a common problem thurst upon them. The Government has established a new Forest Service and is taking steps to impose regulations on the use of range that the ranchers considered theirs by right of possession. Rachel Kilgore's answer was a greeting of the ranchers at Wynn Thomason's place to discuss ways and means of blocking the Forest Service's measures. Slade chosen to lead the fight to keep the Forest Rangers at a distance shocked them with his reason for refusing. He has been sworn in as the local Forest Ranger. Nick Considine is as angered by this news as the other ranchers and approved when Wynn Thomason offered to lead the resistance to the Rangers. Slade's only ally is Frenchy Quebedeaux, a sheep raiser despised by the cattlemen. Frenchy has offered Slade living quarters at his house. FRENCHY QUEBEDEAUX'S cabin was not fine, but it was comfortable and attractive. It was built of logs with a peaked root s the mountain Mexicans build, then plastered inside and out with mud. Frenchy opened the door, struck a match and went in first. Slade Considine waited in the doorway while the big Frenchman lighted a lamp. Then he looked around in surprise and approval. Frenchy stirred up a fire in the stove, poured water in the teakettle and set it on. He turned then, rubbing his hands in delight at the approval on the cowboy's face. "You like, hey?" he asked. "It's mighty nice, Frenchy. Nobody could ask for better." "I make heem all myself—the house, the chairs, the fireplace, the table, evertheeng but the stove." "It's mighty nice, Frenchy," Slade said again, and went over and sat down in one of the chairs. Slade was feeling a little sorry for himself. Three days ago he had been at the top of the heap, a top-notch cowhand, his uncle's foreman, destined some day to be the owner of the 143. And now here he was, an outcast among his own kind, a boarder in a sheep camp. He knew he shouldn't mind it — Frenchy's cabin was clean and comfortable —but he did. He minded knowing that to the cattlemen he was tarred with the sheepman's brush. A foolish idea maybe, but one that was deeply ingrained. He found himself almost wishing he could live the past three days over again. He still had a deep conviction that Uncle Sam was right in establishing the Forest Service to look out for his public lands, and somebody had to make these folks in the Chupa deros see it that way too. But if he had it to do over again maybe he would just forget what he thought was right and run with the crowd. It was pleasant to be liked and respected. Frenchy was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "You don't like living with a sheepman—no?" Blade flushed and was suddenly ashamed of his thoughts. Frenchy deserved a better return for his hospitality than this. "I was feeling a little sorry for myself," he admitted honestly. "Sorry that I quarrelled with Uncle Nick. But mostly I was just thinking about what a big job I've got to do—and wondering whether I can do it or not." "You can do," Frenchy said with quiet confidence. "Once Sam peecked the right man. I make some coffee. Sometheeng hot make you feel better." Maybe the coffee helped some —but mostly it was Slade's innate good common sense that pulled him out of the doldrums. And he made a private vow to himself that he wasn't going to let himself get to wallowing in self pity again. Frenchy sensed the difference in him. Usually gruff and taciturn to the point of actually seeming unfriendly, now he appeared childishly pleased at the idea of having a guest. He was not the kind of a man who would ever talk much, but there was a change in his attitude, a tentative, almost wistful groping for friendship that surprised and touched Slade Considine. It made him forget for a solid hour one important reason he had had in accepting the sheepman's offer of lodging. It was at bedtime that something happened that jolted the cowboy into an awareness of how little anybody knew about Frenchy Quebedeaux. He was sitting on the edge of a bunk, taking off his boots. He jerked his head toward a door in the long back wall of the room. A door that somehow seemed newer than the rest of the woodwork. "You got another room back there, Frenchy?" The big Frenchman looked at him and it seemed to Slade that there was a funny, half guilty, half sorrowful look on his dark face. "You don' go in there," he said quietly. "Anytheeng else on thees place she ees yours, but don' go in there." Slade let a boot fall with a thump. "I thought maybe that's where Bacho slept," he said casually. Frenchy shook his head. "Mos' time—when hee's working hard— Bacho hee's too dirty for the house. He sleeps in the barns weeth hees sheeps. When he cleans up I let heem come in. But you hear what I say about those door?" "I heard—yes," Slade said as he rolled back in his bunk. But as Frenchy blew out the light he reflected that hearing didn't necessarily bind him to a promise to need. Even so it was three days before he had a chance to find out that the door was locked. Of course he didn't have any keys with him, but it looked like an ordinary house door-lock that probably a skeleton key would open. He strolled around behind the house that morning and saw that a smaller room had recently been built on behind the original cabin. It was a fair-sized room, probably about fifteen by fifteen, and there were low, wide windows on each side, with green window shades pulled down to the sill. Frenchy came round the corner of the house and caught him eying the room. The big Frenchman didn't say anything but his face hardened, and there was an expression in his eyes that said very plainly, "Try it and see what it gets you!" Slade's ears burned a little as he walked away. He didn't like snooping, but thoughts of the mysterious room had him bothered. It wasn't just plain curiosity. The three cattle outfits in the Chupaderos had been losing a sizable proportion of their calf crop for two years now, and as Forest Ranger it was part of his job to put a stop to it, whether they wanted his help or not. When Slade rode in to get the mail a couple of days later, he also stopped by the little hardware store and bought a skeleton key. Bacho came in for supper that night. Shaven, scrubbed and dressed in clean levis, he seemed like any other sensible, quietspoken English gentleman. Bacho liked to talk, and when he was sober he talked well. Interrupting one of Bacho's stories, Slade suddenly raised his head and listened. "Don't I hear your dog barking, Bacho?" he asked. "Do you suppose something could be bothering the sheep?" With a sigh the little herder got to his feet and reached for his coat. "Probably one of Mrs. Kilgore's bulls," he said in exasperation. "One big black has a regular feud on with Shep. There is salt in the corral and there isn't a fence in the country that will stop him. Perhaps I'd better go see about it." As he opened the door the barking took on a desperate, frantic tone, and then there was a crashing sound as if the bull had busted through the corral fence. Frenchy got up. "I go too," he said grimly, and reached for a gun from the rack on the wall. Slade's nerves tensed. This was the chance for which he had been waiting. CHAPTER 9 By E.M. Barker 1958, E. M. Barker; published by arrangement with P Raynold's & Son; distributed by King Features Syndicate "Upon her arrival in New Mexico to stay at the ranch of her grandmother, Rachel Kilgore, whom she has never seen before. Martha Kilgore finds herself in the midst of a feud. For when dumped into a crek by her balky horse, she was rescued by Slade Considine and taen to the ranch of Slade's uncle Nick Considine, to get dry and warm. Hearing her name was sufficient to cause Nick to order her off land and tell his nephew to stay away from all the Kilgores or be diswned Nick Considine and Rachel Kilgore have been bitter enemies for forty years. ll the ranchers in the Chupaderos ve had a common problem thurst upon them. The Government has established a new Forest Service and is taking steps to impose regulations on the use of range that the ranchers considered theirs by right of possession. Rachel Kilgore's answer was a greeting of the ranchers at Wynn Thomason's place to discuss ways and means of blocking the Forest Service's measures. Slade chosen to lead the fight to keep the Forest Rangers at a distance shocked them with his reason for refusing. He has been sworn in as the local Forest Ranger. Nick Considine is as angered by this news as the other ranchers and approved when Wynn Thomason offered to lead the resistance to the Rangers. Slade's only ally is Frenchy Quebedeaux, a sheep raiser despised by the cattlemen. Frenchy has offered Slade living quarters at his house. FRENCHY QUEBEDEAUX'S cabin was not fine, but it was comfortable and attractive. It was built of logs with a peaked root s the mountain Mexicans build, then plastered inside and out with mud. Frenchy opened the door, struck a match and went in first. Slade Considine waited in the doorway while the big Frenchman lighted a lamp. Then he looked around in surprise and approval. Frenchy stirred up a fire in the stove, poured water in the teakettle and set it on. He turned then, rubbing his hands in delight at the approval on the cowboy's face. "You like, hey?" he asked. "It's mighty nice, Frenchy. Nobody could ask for better." "I make heem all myself—the house, the chairs, the fireplace, the table, evertheeng but the stove." "It's mighty nice, Frenchy," Slade said again, and went over and sat down in one of the chairs. Slade was feeling a little sorry for himself. Three days ago he had been at the top of the heap, a top-notch cowhand, his uncle's foreman, destined some day to be the owner of the 143. And now here he was, an outcast among his own kind, a boarder in a sheep camp. He knew he shouldn't mind it — Frenchy's cabin was clean and comfortable —but he did. He minded knowing that to the cattlemen he was tarred with the sheepman's brush. A foolish idea maybe, but one that was deeply ingrained. He found himself almost wishing he could live the past three days over again. He still had a deep conviction that Uncle Sam was right in establishing the Forest Service to look out for his public lands, and somebody had to make these folks in the Chupa deros see it that way too. But if he had it to do over again maybe he would just forget what he thought was right and run with the crowd. It was pleasant to be liked and respected. Frenchy was watching him out of the corner of his eye. "You don't like living with a sheepman—no?" Blade flushed and was suddenly ashamed of his thoughts. Frenchy deserved a better return for his hospitality than this. "I was feeling a little sorry for myself," he admitted honestly. "Sorry that I quarrelled with Uncle Nick. But mostly I was just thinking about what a big job I've got to do—and wondering whether I can do it or not." "You can do," Frenchy said with quiet confidence. "Once Sam peecked the right man. I make some coffee. Sometheeng hot make you feel better." Maybe the coffee helped some —but mostly it was Slade's innate good common sense that pulled him out of the doldrums. And he made a private vow to himself that he wasn't going to let himself get to wallowing in self pity again. Frenchy sensed the difference in him. Usually gruff and taciturn to the point of actually seeming unfriendly, now he appeared childishly pleased at the idea of having a guest. He was not the kind of a man who would ever talk much, but there was a change in his attitude, a tentative, almost wistful groping for friendship that surprised and touched Slade Considine. It made him forget for a solid hour one important reason he had had in accepting the sheepman's offer of lodging. It was at bedtime that something happened that jolted the cowboy into an awareness of how little anybody knew about Frenchy Quebedeaux. He was sitting on the edge of a bunk, taking off his boots. He jerked his head toward a door in the long back wall of the room. A door that somehow seemed newer than the rest of the woodwork. "You got another room back there, Frenchy?" The big Frenchman looked at him and it seemed to Slade that there was a funny, half guilty, half sorrowful look on his dark face. "You don' go in there," he said quietly. "Anytheeng else on thees place she ees yours, but don' go in there." Slade let a boot fall with a thump. "I thought maybe that's where Bacho slept," he said casually. Frenchy shook his head. "Mos' time—when hee's working hard— Bacho hee's too dirty for the house. He sleeps in the barns weeth hees sheeps. When he cleans up I let heem come in. But you hear what I say about those door?" "I heard—yes," Slade said as he rolled back in his bunk. But as Frenchy blew out the light he reflected that hearing didn't necessarily bind him to a promise to need. Even so it was three days before he had a chance to find out that the door was locked. Of course he didn't have any keys with him, but it looked like an ordinary house door-lock that probably a skeleton key would open. He strolled around behind the house that morning and saw that a smaller room had recently been built on behind the original cabin. It was a fair-sized room, probably about fifteen by fifteen, and there were low, wide windows on each side, with green window shades pulled down to the sill. Frenchy came round the corner of the house and caught him eying the room. The big Frenchman didn't say anything but his face hardened, and there was an expression in his eyes that said very plainly, "Try it and see what it gets you!" Slade's ears burned a little as he walked away. He didn't like snooping, but thoughts of the mysterious room had him bothered. It wasn't just plain curiosity. The three cattle outfits in the Chupaderos had been losing a sizable proportion of their calf crop for two years now, and as Forest Ranger it was part of his job to put a stop to it, whether they wanted his help or not. When Slade rode in to get the mail a couple of days later, he also stopped by the little hardware store and bought a skeleton key. Bacho came in for supper that night. Shaven, scrubbed and dressed in clean levis, he seemed like any other sensible, quietspoken English gentleman. Bacho liked to talk, and when he was sober he talked well. Interrupting one of Bacho's stories, Slade suddenly raised his head and listened. "Don't I hear your dog barking, Bacho?" he asked. "Do you suppose something could be bothering the sheep?" With a sigh the little herder got to his feet and reached for his coat. "Probably one of Mrs. Kilgore's bulls," he said in exasperation. "One big black has a regular feud on with Shep. There is salt in the corral and there isn't a fence in the country that will stop him. Perhaps I'd better go see about it." As he opened the door the barking took on a desperate, frantic tone, and then there was a crashing sound as if the bull had busted through the corral fence. Frenchy got up. "I go too," he said grimly, and reached for a gun from the rack on the wall. Slade's nerves tensed. This was the chance for which he had been waiting. Group United On School Issue, Wilkins Asserts Negro Americans stand united on the school desegregation issue, Roy Wilkins, executive secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, told delegates attending the National Sunday School and Baptist Training Union here. "There was a time," Mr. Wilkins said, "when southern white people could have split the Negro population down the middle on any issue like this. This would have kept us fighting among our selves and we never would have received any benefit from the Supreme Court ruling. "This has not been true on school desegregation. Here and there we have had an Uncle Tom, but they have been few and far between. We have been united. I believe this has been due in no small measure to the leadership which our churches, their pastors and their members have given." In his address to the Baptist gathering, the NAACP leader said that under segregation white people "get the best, Negroes get only what is left over — if anything. How can Negro parents be happy, for example, when their children under the illegal segregated school system, often must use torn, second - hand, outdated textbooks after the white-children have finished with them?" "If I know anything about my own people," Mr. Wilkins continued, "it is that they are mighty tired of the same old shabby deal." Turning to the role of the church in the struggle for civil rights, Mr. Wilkins said, "Our work and the work of the church have the common objective of creating a better and more just world. "The establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth means the establishment of a society in which all the children of God shall have equality of oportunity, in which there shall be no difference because of nationality, or language, or form of worship, or skin color." Speaking of the unity within the Negro community, Mr. Wilkins said, that against this, "our opponents have made much noise, but not much progress. In the battle for public opinion they are losing. Their cause is not just. ONLY WHAT IS LEFT Negro Americans stand united on the school desegregation issue, Roy Wilkins, executive secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, told delegates attending the National Sunday School and Baptist Training Union here. "There was a time," Mr. Wilkins said, "when southern white people could have split the Negro population down the middle on any issue like this. This would have kept us fighting among our selves and we never would have received any benefit from the Supreme Court ruling. "This has not been true on school desegregation. Here and there we have had an Uncle Tom, but they have been few and far between. We have been united. I believe this has been due in no small measure to the leadership which our churches, their pastors and their members have given." In his address to the Baptist gathering, the NAACP leader said that under segregation white people "get the best, Negroes get only what is left over — if anything. How can Negro parents be happy, for example, when their children under the illegal segregated school system, often must use torn, second - hand, outdated textbooks after the white-children have finished with them?" "If I know anything about my own people," Mr. Wilkins continued, "it is that they are mighty tired of the same old shabby deal." Turning to the role of the church in the struggle for civil rights, Mr. Wilkins said, "Our work and the work of the church have the common objective of creating a better and more just world. "The establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth means the establishment of a society in which all the children of God shall have equality of oportunity, in which there shall be no difference because of nationality, or language, or form of worship, or skin color." Speaking of the unity within the Negro community, Mr. Wilkins said, that against this, "our opponents have made much noise, but not much progress. In the battle for public opinion they are losing. Their cause is not just. The Drowning Season The approach of swimming weather brings to mind the fact that each year some thousands of persons drown because sensible precautions were not followed by the victims. The following rules are good ones to observe. 1. Do not go swimming too early. 2. Use supervised pools. 3. Stay ashore in heavy weather. 4. Keep children out of boats no equipped with lifepreservers, or without swimmers aboard. 5. Teach children to swim early. To this we would add: 1. Wait an hour after eating, before swimming. 2. Use excessive caution when fishing from a boat after dark, especially if in strange waters. 3. Always carry extra life-preservers in boats. 4. If you are deathly afraid of water, stay away from it. One other word of caution is the suggestion that you try one of several floating techniques when next in the water. Many people can float indefinitely without any effort if they will hold their head back so that only the nose is above water. The feet may extend downward vertically from the surface, but if the individual will be careful to keep his head far back, he will find that he can float for hours in this position without physical effect. If you try it, or some other floating technique, it may save your life this summer. 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. King's Book dom a "great book." In Holland the book will be published in Dutch by Van Loghuun Slaterus. The Navajivan Press in India, where Dr. King recently visited with Nehru will publish three editions — one in English, one in Hindu an done in Gugerati to cover the great demand for the Montgomery story throughout India. Poplarville, Miss. the case, but only after first cautioning the reporter, "Please don't mention my name." Generally the majority of the people deplore the Parker lynching. But since the whole community is blackened by the crime, they feel it best to accept the condemnation silently; fo if they disagreed with the lawless forces, their friends might misinterpret their actions — and this could be fatal in a town no larger than Poplarville. The townsfolk enjoy relaxing beneath their many cool shade trees and sleepily letting the rest of the world go by. The limelight focused by the Parker lynching let the world know just what lies within the walls housing the citizenry. Poplarville wants to forget and enjoy its cool shade trees, undisturbed by the rest of the world. But something deep within reminds them there is no forgetting — the world will not suffer such bliss to come to a disturbed mind. And Poplarville, Miss., is disturbed. The words of Gov. Jim Coleman are still echoing: "What has been done at Poplarville by a few thoughtless individuals has brought shame upon the entire state of Mississippi." LYNCHING DEPLORED the case, but only after first cautioning the reporter, "Please don't mention my name." Generally the majority of the people deplore the Parker lynching. But since the whole community is blackened by the crime, they feel it best to accept the condemnation silently; fo if they disagreed with the lawless forces, their friends might misinterpret their actions — and this could be fatal in a town no larger than Poplarville. The townsfolk enjoy relaxing beneath their many cool shade trees and sleepily letting the rest of the world go by. The limelight focused by the Parker lynching let the world know just what lies within the walls housing the citizenry. Poplarville wants to forget and enjoy its cool shade trees, undisturbed by the rest of the world. But something deep within reminds them there is no forgetting — the world will not suffer such bliss to come to a disturbed mind. And Poplarville, Miss., is disturbed. The words of Gov. Jim Coleman are still echoing: "What has been done at Poplarville by a few thoughtless individuals has brought shame upon the entire state of Mississippi." "We Ary Trying To" are not even going to the northern states seeking a relief from the southern oppression. We are going to be free right here in my native South." Rev. E. V. Hill of Houston. Tex., representing Rev. C. K. Steele of Tallahassee, Fla., said "The Southern Christian Leadership Conference is interested in saving America by making all men free." He explained the 'back to Africa movement" in this manner. "When all the Irish return to Ireland, all the Jews to Israel, all the Polish to Poland; and the English to England; and the Italians to Italy; and the Germans to Germany; and all the other people to their native origin and leave America to the Indians, then we will think about returning to Africa...not before." Rev. Shuttlesworth said "Negroes have gone too far to turn back the clock of time. We have decided to burn the bridges of paternalism behind us. We are tired of Our Southern Way of Life. We must continue to fight for freedom even if death be our destiny." He told of the abuses, insults, the bombings and beatings he had suffered in Birmingham and how his wife and children had suffered. Among other speakers was Dr. S. A. Owen, Sr., pastor of the church. About $778 was raised by freewill offering. The money has been earmarked for a two-year plan to register three-million Negro voters in the South by 1960. REV. E. V. HILL are not even going to the northern states seeking a relief from the southern oppression. We are going to be free right here in my native South." Rev. E. V. Hill of Houston. Tex., representing Rev. C. K. Steele of Tallahassee, Fla., said "The Southern Christian Leadership Conference is interested in saving America by making all men free." He explained the 'back to Africa movement" in this manner. "When all the Irish return to Ireland, all the Jews to Israel, all the Polish to Poland; and the English to England; and the Italians to Italy; and the Germans to Germany; and all the other people to their native origin and leave America to the Indians, then we will think about returning to Africa...not before." Rev. Shuttlesworth said "Negroes have gone too far to turn back the clock of time. We have decided to burn the bridges of paternalism behind us. We are tired of Our Southern Way of Life. We must continue to fight for freedom even if death be our destiny." He told of the abuses, insults, the bombings and beatings he had suffered in Birmingham and how his wife and children had suffered. Among other speakers was Dr. S. A. Owen, Sr., pastor of the church. About $778 was raised by freewill offering. The money has been earmarked for a two-year plan to register three-million Negro voters in the South by 1960. REV. SHUTTLESWORTH are not even going to the northern states seeking a relief from the southern oppression. We are going to be free right here in my native South." Rev. E. V. Hill of Houston. Tex., representing Rev. C. K. Steele of Tallahassee, Fla., said "The Southern Christian Leadership Conference is interested in saving America by making all men free." He explained the 'back to Africa movement" in this manner. "When all the Irish return to Ireland, all the Jews to Israel, all the Polish to Poland; and the English to England; and the Italians to Italy; and the Germans to Germany; and all the other people to their native origin and leave America to the Indians, then we will think about returning to Africa...not before." Rev. Shuttlesworth said "Negroes have gone too far to turn back the clock of time. We have decided to burn the bridges of paternalism behind us. We are tired of Our Southern Way of Life. We must continue to fight for freedom even if death be our destiny." He told of the abuses, insults, the bombings and beatings he had suffered in Birmingham and how his wife and children had suffered. Among other speakers was Dr. S. A. Owen, Sr., pastor of the church. About $778 was raised by freewill offering. The money has been earmarked for a two-year plan to register three-million Negro voters in the South by 1960. Women Warned A LeMoyne Gardens victim reported that the rapist entered her bedroom while she was asleep and tied her hands behind her with a wire clothes hanger. After raping her twice in her bedroom, she said, he then "forced me into a nearby unoccupied apt., where he attacked me, for a third time." A Foote Homes victim reported that the rapist cut througn her screen door and used a glasscutter to cut through her oner door. She said that the man warned her that if she resisted, he would kill her. Several suspects, Chief MacDonald, said last week, have been picked up and released. It was learned that one of the first suspects picked up was reportedly a grocery delivery boy who was released. Neighbors in the area have been checking in and out with each other, getting their children off the streets before nightfall, and arming themselves with monkey wrenches, shotguns and other would-be weapons. USED GLASSCUTTER A LeMoyne Gardens victim reported that the rapist entered her bedroom while she was asleep and tied her hands behind her with a wire clothes hanger. After raping her twice in her bedroom, she said, he then "forced me into a nearby unoccupied apt., where he attacked me, for a third time." A Foote Homes victim reported that the rapist cut througn her screen door and used a glasscutter to cut through her oner door. She said that the man warned her that if she resisted, he would kill her. Several suspects, Chief MacDonald, said last week, have been picked up and released. It was learned that one of the first suspects picked up was reportedly a grocery delivery boy who was released. Neighbors in the area have been checking in and out with each other, getting their children off the streets before nightfall, and arming themselves with monkey wrenches, shotguns and other would-be weapons. Segregation By Law use the fact that your foreparents were slaves as an excuse." The speaker admonished his audience to be more interested in reading good books than going to segregated theatres; more interested in doing civic work than being a socialite in town; more interested in becoming well educated than dancing and formcating. "No talents must be wasted. If a boy or girl in your church shows promise and if they do not have money to attend college, then the church should send them." said Mays. "Many important jobs are available but many Negroes are not qualified." Dr. Mays predicted that Negroes will be holding professorships in integrated colleges in the south within the next 25 years, despite the people like Gov. Vandiver and Gov Faubus. "If we are to walk this world with dignity, we must work hard, concluded Dr. Mays. SEEING and SAYING By WILLIAM FOWLKES World's Managing Editor JACKIE ROBINSON, who became the first Negro to play in organized, major league baseball, among other "firsts" got off some pretty good race-arighting jabs the other day down at Tuskegee. To his overflowing audience, which was celebrating the second anniversary of the successfully protesting Tuskegee Civic Association, he warned that it was the responsibility of all Negroes who had attained success to stand up and be counted in the continuing fight to get Civil Rights and opportunities for all. YES, THE PROBLEM of Negroes which confronts the least, confronts all. And, it is the responsibility of the successful to support the continuing fight for complete liberty and justice for the underprivileged and least successful Negroes. Otherwise, as he inferred, the technique of "divide and conquer" will keep all in a position of second-rate citizenship. Those who think they "have it made" and are immune to the sufferings, hardship and assumed "place" of others, can easily be picked off without a moment's notice. Mr. Robinson, now a business and NAACP executive, is doing his nation a service while running the bases for full equality of all Americans. He is playing a tight infield, stealing bases and knocking homeruns for democracy, because he knows that "nobody has it made." Nobody Has It Made! By WILLIAM FOWLKES World's Managing Editor JACKIE ROBINSON, who became the first Negro to play in organized, major league baseball, among other "firsts" got off some pretty good race-arighting jabs the other day down at Tuskegee. To his overflowing audience, which was celebrating the second anniversary of the successfully protesting Tuskegee Civic Association, he warned that it was the responsibility of all Negroes who had attained success to stand up and be counted in the continuing fight to get Civil Rights and opportunities for all. YES, THE PROBLEM of Negroes which confronts the least, confronts all. And, it is the responsibility of the successful to support the continuing fight for complete liberty and justice for the underprivileged and least successful Negroes. Otherwise, as he inferred, the technique of "divide and conquer" will keep all in a position of second-rate citizenship. Those who think they "have it made" and are immune to the sufferings, hardship and assumed "place" of others, can easily be picked off without a moment's notice. Mr. Robinson, now a business and NAACP executive, is doing his nation a service while running the bases for full equality of all Americans. He is playing a tight infield, stealing bases and knocking homeruns for democracy, because he knows that "nobody has it made." MY WEEKLY SERMON By REV. BLAIR T. HUNT PASTOR MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH The place of prayer was dear to the early Christians. Sometimes it was in the Temple, at other times in the home, and at still other times by the seaside or riverside. In this twentieth century may we add another place or prayer, at the red light. Our cities and towns with their heavy automobile traffic have plac ed lights, red, green and amber at our busy intersections. The red light halts traffic. Then it is we fume, fret and complain . . . stop we must. Isn't this a good place to whisper a prayer? Just a sentence. or two, just breathe a little prayer. So when you come to the red light stop and pray. In the first century, the place of prayer was the path of service in Jesus' name and for His sake. Today a grand place of prayer is at the red light, where and when you and traffic are halted waiting for the green light. So when you come to the red light stop and pray. To the early saints the place of prayer was the place of power . . . So when you come to the red light in your twentieth century city stop and pray and power over impatience will be yours. Pray for the other drivers, pray for the pedestrians for they are God's children. Yes at the table thank God for your physical sustenance, but when you come to the red light on your busy congested streets stop and pray. We pray at home, good. But when away from home halted by the red lights stop and pray. We pray in our churches, good. But on your way to and from church when you come to the red lights stop and pray. Many are the red lights, danger signals in life. But at all red lights in life stop and pray. There are red lights hung out by God in the slippery and dangerous places in life: scenes of sexual excitement, opportunities of selfish gratification company of the ungodly in Gods' word there are red lights hung out warning us of these slippery places, the dangerous places, so when we see God's red lantern stop and pray. Thus you will avoid the accidents and wrecks of time. It is the Jesus way to stop and pray. He stopped and prayed. Pick up your daily papers and there you will read that somebody ran a red light . . . a car wreck, a human wreck somebody killed. Had they stopped at the red light and breathed a prayer it would not have been. If you would reduce accidents in your city, if you would save a life that may be your own . . . when you come to the red light stop and pray. Make the red light a place of prayer. It need not be long, for the time too short. But when you come to the red light breathe a prayer . . . a prayer of thanks, a prayer for the unknown drivers going by a prayer for the ragged urchins trying to cross over, a prayer for the old and wearied pedestrians endeavoring to weave their way through the traffic. When you come to the red light stop and pray. Then you are paying your premium on your insurance policy from heaven. You will be sweeter and your life and property safer if when you come to the red light stop and say a prayer. Make the red light a place of prayer. Just whisper a prayer in the name of Jesus Christ. STOP AT THE RED LIGHT AND PRAY By REV. BLAIR T. HUNT PASTOR MISSISSIPPI BLVD. CHRISTIAN CHURCH The place of prayer was dear to the early Christians. Sometimes it was in the Temple, at other times in the home, and at still other times by the seaside or riverside. In this twentieth century may we add another place or prayer, at the red light. Our cities and towns with their heavy automobile traffic have plac ed lights, red, green and amber at our busy intersections. The red light halts traffic. Then it is we fume, fret and complain . . . stop we must. Isn't this a good place to whisper a prayer? Just a sentence. or two, just breathe a little prayer. So when you come to the red light stop and pray. In the first century, the place of prayer was the path of service in Jesus' name and for His sake. Today a grand place of prayer is at the red light, where and when you and traffic are halted waiting for the green light. So when you come to the red light stop and pray. To the early saints the place of prayer was the place of power . . . So when you come to the red light in your twentieth century city stop and pray and power over impatience will be yours. Pray for the other drivers, pray for the pedestrians for they are God's children. Yes at the table thank God for your physical sustenance, but when you come to the red light on your busy congested streets stop and pray. We pray at home, good. But when away from home halted by the red lights stop and pray. We pray in our churches, good. But on your way to and from church when you come to the red lights stop and pray. Many are the red lights, danger signals in life. But at all red lights in life stop and pray. There are red lights hung out by God in the slippery and dangerous places in life: scenes of sexual excitement, opportunities of selfish gratification company of the ungodly in Gods' word there are red lights hung out warning us of these slippery places, the dangerous places, so when we see God's red lantern stop and pray. Thus you will avoid the accidents and wrecks of time. It is the Jesus way to stop and pray. He stopped and prayed. Pick up your daily papers and there you will read that somebody ran a red light . . . a car wreck, a human wreck somebody killed. Had they stopped at the red light and breathed a prayer it would not have been. If you would reduce accidents in your city, if you would save a life that may be your own . . . when you come to the red light stop and pray. Make the red light a place of prayer. It need not be long, for the time too short. But when you come to the red light breathe a prayer . . . a prayer of thanks, a prayer for the unknown drivers going by a prayer for the ragged urchins trying to cross over, a prayer for the old and wearied pedestrians endeavoring to weave their way through the traffic. When you come to the red light stop and pray. Then you are paying your premium on your insurance policy from heaven. You will be sweeter and your life and property safer if when you come to the red light stop and say a prayer. Make the red light a place of prayer. Just whisper a prayer in the name of Jesus Christ. Bishop's Urge sums for "building new churches and relocating congregations. The report of this department showed a deficit, although a reserved fund for minimum pastoral salary holds over 890 thousand dollars. The Board held its meeting Tuesday at Mt. Olive AME, 19th & Fitzwater, Rev. R. R. Stokes, pastor. The session closed early Thursday afternoon for the funeral of Rev. E. J. Odom, Sr. Director of the Department of Evangelism for the AME Church for the past 20 years. A resident of Philadelphia for the past five years, he died of a heart attack during a session of the Executive Board Tuesday afternoon. Week's Top Quotes of-date Hitler or Mussolini take away what we've fought for. When the whites go back to Europe, then we'll go back to Africa." Dr. O. Clay Maxwell, upon reelection as head of the NSS and BTU; "Evangelism of the Christian Church ever has a two-fold task in its hands — to win men and women one by one to a vital relationship with God and to fashion a world fit for all the children of God to live in." Rev. Ralph Abernathy of Montgomery, Ala.: "Today we have a brand new Negro — a Negro who isn't afraid, who doesn't scratch were he doesn't itch, who is determined to be free without going back to Africa. I've never been to Africa in my life, so how can I go back? Right here in the South I intend to be free as a jaybird at whistling time. Segregation is dead as a door nail. The umpire has kicked it out. They argue about it, but all that lies ahead of it is the funeral." 1-Week Camp Daily rest periods to guard against fatigue and medical accident insurance will be carried on every camper, explained Mrs. Booth. All children of Memphis and Shelby County from ages 6-18 years who are ambulatory and can take care of their personnel needs, may register. The camp will work in four or five""groups. The grouping will depend upon the age, social adjustment and maturity of the child. Activities will be programmed according to the ability, skill and interest of each group. For application blanks call: Mrs. Philip Booth, camp coordinator, 1179 Cannon street, Memphis, WH. 8-3984. MAU MAU MEMBER KILLED One member of the Mau Mau anti-white organisation which waged a rebellion from 1950 to 1956, was shot to death last Sunday by tribal police who reported that the dead man was armed with an army rifle at the time of the shooting.